The Cry of a Weeping Girl
by vvindy-vvillovv
Summary: Entering her Fourth year at Hogwarts, Andria has to handle an irritating brother, hotheaded friends, a foot-fetish pervert, a soul-sucking secret and the escape of notorious murder Sirius Black who her mother, for reasons unknown, refuses to give her or her brother any insight about. Finishing her school year is the least of her worries. - PoA to DH - (slowburn eventual romance)
1. Chapter 1

"Sirius Black, notorious mass murderer escapes from Azka –" The paper was drawn shut abruptly and crushed into Narcissa Malfoy's lap. "Hey, I was reading that!"

"Andria, go upstairs to your room while your father and I talk in private. Take Draco with you too." Narcissa instructed firmly in her _I am the mother, you are my spawn_ voice, full on chalked with authority. Andria snuffled with distaste, as all fourteen year olds should do when their mother tells them to do something they had no intentions on doing before hand.

" _What_?" Draco screeched, aggravating annoying at thirteen as he had ever been. "I did nothing, this isn't fair!"

"There was no mention of anybody doing anything." Narcissa said calmly regardless of the fear stricken tremble her hands bore and she gripped the _Daily Prophet_ in her hands tighter. "Go on then, both of you upstairs. Stay together, I don't want you listening in." She snapped up to her feet abruptly after speaking softly. She let out a loud shout for her husband, well it was more of a frantic cry, really which led Andria to think that her mother's franticness was a direct route of her actions. Slowly, the young girl rose to her feet, realising that there was more going on that met the eyes.

"Come on, Draco." She mumbled quietly, nudging at her brother's foot as he gaped like a fish at the scene unfolding around him. With an aggravated grumble, he pulled himself onto his noodle-like legs, dragging his feet across the floor in suit of his sister, who hadn't bothered to protest again.

"Have you seen today's headlines?" Narcissa asked in a hushed whisper as the heavy slam of her daughter's bedroom door whacked shut, both of her children tucked safely away behind its oak wood. Lucius said nothing, just nodded his head. "Sirius Black, Lucius!" She squealed. "Sirius bloody Black!"

"Can you hear what they're saying?" Andria asked quietly, watching her brothers mop of platinum blonde hair press against the floor boards in attempts to listen in on the conversation going on down below.

"No." Draco grunted in reply. "They've probably cast a spell." He huffed, letting his head go limp against the clean flooring. "What in Merlin's bonnet did you do to get that reaction?"

"We have to tell her." Narcissa whispered in a panic. "Before someone else does."

"Someone like who? Black himself?" Lucius asked, a humourless laugh in the back of his throat. "Do you really think she'd believe him? Do you think _anyone_ will? He's spent the last however many years of his life in Azkaban of all places, a night in there and you're sure to go insane."

"You must have done more than read the headline." Draco muttered, leaning his back against the door. "Mother wouldn't go Mungo's over you being able to read a headline."

"It could be about Sirius Black." Andria suggested, recalling the headline. "He killed a lot of people during the time You-Know-Who was alive and kicking. Maybe they think he'll come after us. You know what she's like. Doesn't think anybody can offer the same protection to her beloved children than she and father can."

"Well then she's being ridiculous." Draco critiqued. "Dumbledore wouldn't let a rampageous murderer anywhere near the school. A rampageous murderer can easily slip through the gate if he were dead set on it, no matter how many charms they put up."

"We can't let her know anything about it." Narcissa obsessed. "Nothing about what he did. We can't let either of them read _anything_ about what he's done. What he used to be like. Who he used to be associated with. We can't have questions."

"I wonder who he killed." Andria wondered out loud. "Must be pretty serious, I only caught a glimpse of the front page picture. He's looks bloody psychotic."

"He was in Azkaban. It's supposed to be high security, how the hell did they let someone skip out?" Narcissa demanded, slamming her hands down on the polished table. Lucius gritted his teeth as she did this, giving her only a small eye roll. "We have to transfer her. I'll owl –"

"Hey," Lucius said sharply, grabbing his wife's hands and clutching them tightly, reassuringly, lovingly. "You're acting irrational. Hardly anyone knows. Those who do will protect her at all costs, if they don't they'll have me to answer to." Narcissa closed her eyes and let out a shallow breath.

"I'm acting like a lunatic." Narcissa admitted softly, cracking a small smile. "I'll owl Dumbledore and Snape."

"I think this is the end." Andria mumbled, sighing dramatically and placing her hand over her head. "We are to remain here for forever more. We will have to live out our remaining days on only rations of sweets." She let out a small whimper, and held her hand out to Draco, who looked on at her with a form of regret, probably for being related to her. "You've been an alright brother, I'll never forget you."

"Master Draco. Mistress Andria." Gnibby the House-Elf squeaked. "Master Lucius and Mistress Narcissa are allowing you boths to return down the stairs."

"Oh, Gnibby!" Andria gushed. "You beauty, you saviour!" The small elf blushed and with one last squeak, she vanished into thin air. "I've always know that Drama was the career path for me."

"You should join the Drama Group down in St Mungo's. I've heard they have an opening upon watching your latest piece." Draco commented, fleeing from his sister's room before she could retort with a hex or two.

"Prat!" Andria called after him, her mouth dropping into a circle, feeling rather insulted.

"Why don't I go and get your school things alone, hmm?" Narcissa suggested over lunch, stabbing at a floppy leaf of lettuce. "The two of you can spend some time with your father before you leave."

"Abandoning traditions already, are we?" Andria asked through a mouthful of sliced chicken and tomato. From the sharp look from both her parents, she swallowed thickly before continuing. "When I first got my acceptance letter from Hogwarts, we went to Diagon Alley, just the two of us, bought my things, got new robes and then, to finish the day off, we got ice-cream. The following year, Draco got his acceptance letter, I got my letter of things I needed and we did the same things. Last year, same again. It's been three years of tradition and you're throwing it away because of a stupid, clinically-insane murderer?"

"I'm throwing it away because the two of you have barely seen your father all summer." Narcissa objected, looking at her daughter with stern eyes. "It has nothing to do with Sirius Black. We are not to speak of this man ever again, do you understand me, Andria?"

Andria scoffed, placing her fork onto her plate. "I understand." She grumbled bitterly, irritated that her curiosity would not be fed.

"You too, Draco. Do you understand that the topic of Sirius Black will never be brought up again?" Narcissa asked her son.

"Yeah, whatever, I understand." Draco agreed absently, the lack of Sirius Black in his life not affecting him at all. Anyway, he could always just ask Crabbe or Goyle for information about the murderer. He sometimes wondered why his sister wasn't as smart as him.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the bloody hell are these books?" Andria screeched, holding onto her bed post for dear life as her Mythical Creatures book bit its way around the room, leaving no survivors that remained on the floor. "Mum!" She wailed, watching the book gnaw at her bed post. "Merlin's toes, this thing is trying to kill me!"

"What's trying to – Not these bloody books again." Narcissa frowned intensely at the furry book crunching away at the wood of her daughters bed. "Do you know how much clothes I've had to repair because of these things? What _is_ Dumbledore thinking?" She asked herself as an afterthought, picking her wand out her long, magnificently beautiful black and purple cloak. With a swift flick of her wrist, a long, baby blue spark shot out, hitting the monstrosity square in the eyes. It wailed, releasing the bed post with a defeated sigh and then going quiet and completely, utterly still.

"You're my saviour and I love you." Andria said with relief, stepping down off her bed. Narcissa just hummed, tucking her wand away and stepping further into her daughters room.

"Are you all packed?" She asked quietly, looking into her daughters pale blue eyes.

"Just need to get that into my trunk and I'm done for. All set for tomorrow."

Narcissa nodded, unable to bite her tongue before words came tumbling out. "You know," She started "if you're worried about going back to Hogwarts, we can easily transfer you. I've heard of some lovely schools in Europe. France, Germany, Greece. Or your father and I could home school –"

"Mother, no." Andria interrupted with a forced smile. "Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't protect myself. Shouldn't we be all girl power, anyway? Stick it up to the men? Just because I have lady parts doesn't mean I can't kick your butt into next century?"

"It has nothing to do with your gender." Narcissa assured quickly. "You're just as strong as your bother, if not stronger."

Andria opened her mouth to reply, but she was quickly out-voiced by Draco, from down the hall. "Mother!" He yelped in what could only be described as his _I'm being viciously attacked by a Medieval book, help is urgently needed_ tone of voice. Narcissa closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose, exhaled through her mouth. "Merlin, help me." She muttered, swiftly turning out of Andria's room, cloak bellowing behind her tremendously.

Andria smiled to herself, feeling a large blast of affection for her mother's coddling. She'd miss that while away learning and stuff. Reaching down to pick up her chaotic book, accidentally, she touched it the wrong way and her mother's spell wasn't in affect anymore so once again, the book went on a rampage.

" _Mum!_ "

/ / /

"Happy birthday, my darling." Narcissa Malfoy greeted her daughter enthusiastically as she trudged down the stairs, two house-elves, Gnibby and Cabbit, lugging her trunk down the stairs with joint effort.

"Morning, mother and thank you." Andria smiled, signalling for the house-elves to leave her trunk at the bottom of the stair well.

"Since your fifteen now," Lucius commented snottily from his tea cup "I think it's time that your mother and I come up with a short list of people for you to wed."

Andria scrunched up her nose with distaste. "I can't even get married until I'm out of Hogwarts. That's in three years."

"There's a lot of preparation to be done. We're not shallow enough to just drop you into a marriage. It has to be built up. You have to get to know each other. There is contracts to be signed. That's just a few of the many things." Andria decided against commenting on anything Lucius just said as he didn't seem to be in the joking mood. But then again, did he ever look to be in that mood?

"Remember, as soon as you're out of the Great Hall you must see Professor Snape. You haven't got enough of your potion to last the week and it takes a day and a half to brew." Narcissa reminded for the first time that morning, and it certainly wasn't going to be the last time she'd speak of it.

"I'll remember, I promise." Andria assured her, scraping the chair out from under the table and taking a seat, licking her lips at the sight of the chilled ice-cream slowly melting in a bowl, mounds of fresh strawberries, stems cut off and then halved, sitting on a smaller bowl beside it.

"Happy birthday." Draco said quietly, sitting down at the dinner table, sliding a carefully wrapped present over to Andria. She smiled, taking it in her hands, tearing at the tape holding it all together. Her smile only grew wider as it unravelled a black patent box. She placing the now useless paper to the side and opened the box with grace. "I love it." Andria gushed, making heart-eyes at the rose-gold thin chain that sparkled under the candlelit room. Two small charms dangled from the middle, only a centimetre apart. The one of the right was silver supporting the Malfoy Crest, shiny and glistening. The second charm, too, was silver, only supporting an engraved Slytherin Crest. "Put it on for me?" She asked quietly, biting her lower lip with excitement. It had to be the most beautiful, sentimental piece she had ever received from her brother.

Draco fumbled with the clasp of the charm bracelet, struggling ever so slightly to fit it together. When it did, it fit perfectly. "I'm in awe, it's gorgeous. Did you pick this out yourself?"

"I had a little help." He admitted, the slightest hint of a blush rising on his cheeks.

"Your face alone tells me that it wasn't mother who you went jewellery shopping with." Andria teased, enjoying the light shade of pink turn into a ferocious red. Happy with herself, she picked up the card, tearing at the envelope. If the gift had made her happy, the card was even better.

It lacked the gold and overall expensiveness of it, but the sentimentality made up for it. The front of the card was a picture, the entire family, smiling together, looking loving and smushy.

Andria recognised it immediately, the picture was taken on their holiday to Russia. They wore their best winter clothes, even though it was the middle of summer. Snow trickled down from the skies and the picture captured that perfectly, the white flakes of snow in the background contrasting beautifully with the clear blue skies. Lucius bore a smile, and you could even see him go from a forced closed-mouth smile to a full on pearly white. Narcissa had a constant bearing teeth smile, looking positively ecstatic, her hair blowing gently in front of her face, her head shaking slightly to manoeuvre the strands out her face. Draco, true to grumpy teenager fashion, was rolling his eyes looking positively irritated, but the sappy grin on his face said otherwise. Andria looked the happiest of them all, throwing her head back with gleeful laughter, tightening her grip around her younger brothers waist, pulling him closer. They looked happy, like they didn't have a care in the world, which at that moment in time, they didn't.

"You magnificent shit." Andria breathed.

"Language." Narcissa and Lucius scolded together.

Andria ignored them. "Come here, you big sap." She grinned, tugging her brother over the corner of the table and smashing him into her tight embrace. She placed a forceful kiss on the side of his head which he groaned at, obviously. "Thank you." She whispered into his ear. He didn't reply, but the slight squeeze she receive was more than enough of a silent _no problem_.

/ / /

"It's chaotic this year." Andria grumbled over the loud chattering of all the Hogwarts students, new and old. Draco grunted something quietly which was probably offensive to all on the platform who weren't a Pureblood. "Supposed you won't want to sit next to your big sister on the train, hmm?" She asked, already knowing his answer.

"No." He said bluntly, not bother to expand on his reasoning. Andria didn't press, just nodded her head, scanning all the others in search for her small clique of friends.

"Malfoy!" A gruff voice called out. Andria didn't twitch, already knowing who the owner of the voice was and who they were wanting. Sure enough, Gregory Goyle appeared after forcing his way through the crown, giving a big dopey grin to the youngest Malfoy on the platform. "Had a good summer?"

"It was pleasant." Draco answered shortly, not bothering to ask about his friend's summer experience.

"What about you, Andi?" He asked, hobbling back and forth between foot. Andria rolled her eyes, already sensing that this would be a long year of his infuriating flirting and, quite frankly, pathetic crush on her that had developed half way through her second year, Goyle's first, also round about the time she developed breasts.

"What did I say about calling me Andi?" Andria asked sharply, not even bothering to answer his question.

"Only family and friends get to call you that." Goyle recited, looking bashful.

"And?" Andria pressed, looking for the rest of the statement.

"And I am neither."

"Correct." She hoisted up her trunk, her arm already starting to ache with the weight. "I'm off, Draco. I'll see you on the train later, okay?" Draco just hummed and gave a small nod, his eyes still darting around the platform, most likely seeking out someone special. "And remember, I have your money, so if you want anything form the cart you have to come to me first."

"Yeah, yeah. Andi, would so kindly piss off?" He asked, perking up, deciding to wear a smile and wave at the girl bustling her way towards them.

"Okay, okay." Andria muttered, placing her trunk back onto the floor with a small _thud_. "I love you so much, Draco-pops. Don't you forget that, little man." Andria tugged Draco into a forceful hug, her grip so tight it was almost as if she were trying to squeeze out his internal organs. Immediately, Draco protested loudly, trying to bat his sister away. "I'll see you later, baby brother." Adria released him, enjoying the bright pink look on his face. Hauling at her trunk, she smiled at the approaching girl. "Oh, hello Pansy." She said purposefully. "I didn't see you coming."

Pansy smiled, looking as if she were refraining from laughing. "Hi, Andria." She greeted in return.

"Well, I'll see you kids later." Andria beckoned them off, one last time before walking away, grinning when she heard a violent slap and a small ouch, followed by Draco's loud yell of: "That's my sister, you prat! Stop looking at her!" Goyle only apologised, not even sounding like he meant it. Andria rolled her eyes fondly.

Boys.

/ / /

"I wonder who the new DADA teacher will be." Meredith Walker, a Pureblood from the South of Australia, asked, absently twirling a strand of her golden, poker straight hair around her nimble finger. "I hope it's a man. A good looking one. Pureblood. Tight ass. Firm thighs…" Her dark brown eyes glazed over and she stared out at the passing gloomy country side absently. A small jolt of the train brought her back to the present and she smiled, not looking the slightest bit sorry. "What was I saying?"

"The new DADA Professor." Andria reminded her with a sly smile. "You want him firm and tight."

Meredith moaned loudly, clutching her chest, looking like she was in ecstasy. "Merlin, _yes_." She reached across the compartment and snagged a jelly slug. "See, this is the best part about not having a father who's obsessed with the practicalities of an arranged marriage. I can snog all the good looking ones and later down the line, I can shag 'em. Nobody here in this end of the world would give a fuck if I've lost it to some random, good looking boy in the West of Where-Ever. They want new blood. New families so they can get out of this incest-type thing you all have going on here." She bit the head off the jelly treat, chewing down on it and swallowing before continuing. "Although, I do have to say, Andi, you look so fucking sexy for a girl who was created out of some form of incest."

"Shut up." Andria laughed, swinging her legs at her friend.

"I mean, look at you. You're fucking _gorgeous_. You're brother isn't half bad, but he's younger so I'll wait until he's sixteen." Andria swung her legs harder, getting Meredith right in the knee caps. "Ouch!" She cried. "Okay, no more talk of your brother." Her eyes dragged over to Elizabeth, who was cuddled up to the corner of the compartment, engrossed in her book. "You're pretty smoking too, Lizzy." This grabbed the girls attention and she looked up from her book, a dazed expression on her face.

" _What_?" She asked sharply.

"I said you look smoking. As in hot." Meredith repeated.

"So you'd fuck me?" Elizabeth asked with a sly smile.

"Fuck, of course, baby." Meredith gave an exaggerated wink.

"You two are disgusting." Andria snorted, settling back into her bench, leaning her head against the cool glass of the window. Meredith and Elizabeth ignored Andria's joking comment and decided that it would be a good idea to talk, in depth, about everything that would happen in their apparent threesome that Andria was being dragged into.

A sharp tap at the compartment doors stopped their conversation momentarily and all three of the girls look towards the thin window. There stood Draco, looking mildly pissed, as per usual. Andria waved her hand at her brother for him to come and, and so he did. "Draco!" Meredith greeted loudly and enthusiastically. "Come," She beckoned, patting the vacant spot next to her "sit next to your favourite Slytherin fourth year." Draco lingered at the door for a few more seconds before shuffling further into the compartment, the door sliding shut behind him, and sitting next to Meredith.

"Excuse her." Elizabeth grunted, shooting her friend sitting at the opposite bench a tight smile. "She's sexually frust –"

"What is it, Draco?" Andria asked, successfully drowning out the rest of Elizabeth's statement.

"Mother forgot to give me money. I have none." He stated and Andria began to wonder if all the information she would ever tell the male species would go in one ear and right out the other. "Can I get some of yours?" He asked and Andria raised her eyebrows. "Please?" He added.

"Do you not remember what I told you on the platform?" She quizzed, eyebrows still perched high.

"Is this going to be a little domestic sibling fight?" Meredith asked quietly, leaning back into her bench looking completely amused.

"All I remember from the platform is you embarrassing me. Thanks for that, by the way, she keeps taking the piss out of me now."

"Well, what kind of sister would I be if I didn't embarrass my little brother in front of his first crush?" Andria asked innocently, giving him a small smile.

"Uh, I don't know, a good one?" He guessed sarcastically.

"Shut up, I'm the best sister." She rifled about in her pockets, pulling out two small little pouches. "If your eyes and ears worked at the same time, and the latter didn't shut completely when on the lookout for your little girlfriend, you might have heard me when I said that mum put me in charge of your money." Andria held out his pouch and dropped it into his outstretched hand. "What do you say?"

"Thanks." Draco grunted. Standing up and without another word, fleeing to the door. Abruptly, he stopped in his tracks and turned back around. "I forgot," he muttered, stuffing his hand into his back pocket and pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment. "Mother sent this for you, but the stupid owl got the wrong sibling." Andria took the parchment from her brother hands delicately and smiled in a thanks. Draco gave the girls a small nod before disappearing.

"Is it a love letter?" Elizabeth asked curiously, leaning closer to try and catch a glimpse of the letter.

"Oh yes." Andria drawled out sarcastically. "A love letter from my mother."

 _Andria,_

 _Just a little reminder to tell Professor Snape that you're in need of a refill of your potion. Also, that you need to remember to take it. You need it for a reason._

 _Love, mother xx_

"What does it say?" Meredith asked. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." Andria shrugged, folding the parchment back up, sliding it into her cloak pocket. "My mother was just –" The train jolted to a stop, seizing the end of Andria's sentence. "What in Merlin's bonnet…" Andria muttered, flinching when the lights violently flicked off. From the corridor, confused and nervous whispers erupted.

"Back in your seats!" The Head Boy ordered loudly, strutting down the corridor. "Back in your seats!"

"What the bloody hell is happening?" Elizabeth asked quietly, sounding a little stunned.

"Something, and I don't think it's good." Andria answered cautiously, wiping her sleeve at the window, trying to get a better look outside. "We're stuck on a damn bridge. We're not even anywhere _near_ school."

"Maybe it's Sirius Black." Meredith suggested gravely, face going rather pale. "Bloody hell. It's going to be Sirius Black, isn't it?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Mer." Andria scolded. "What would he want with a bunch of wizards and witches in training?"

"Don't you know?" Meredith asked, the vague outline of her facial features in the dark looking shocked. "He was a follower of You-Know-Who."

"Yeah, he was a big follower of him before getting thrown into Azkaban. And guess what," Elizabeth chimed in ending in a rhetorical question "the person who defeated his Wizard-type God thing is on this very train."

"Harry Potter." Andria said with sudden realisation. "Is he after Harry Potter?"

"If I were Sirius Black and I was such a devoted follower that I managed to break out of the most high security prison on our little Islands, I'd want to kill him." Elizabeth said, pressing her face up against the pane of the compartment door. Andria gnawed down on her lower lip nervously, her stomach rattling with nervous butterflies.

A thin sheet of ice slowly coated the windows, frost crackling together in formation, chilling the room down completely. "What a fucking wizard." Meredith breathed in awe of the notorious mass murderer.

"I – I – I think I'm –" Andria gulped loudly and tugged a hand through her hair, her ribcage closing up together, crushing all of her vital organs into one confined space. "I – I _need_ –" The air in her lungs tumbled out of her mouth all at once and with humiliation, terror and nerves, her eyes slowly began to fill with tears.

"Andi, are you –"

"Stupid questions." Andria wheezed, already feeling the heavy sobs climbing up her throat against her will. She could feel hear heart beating in every inch of her body; her toes, fingers, ears, thighs, ankles, nose. "No, no, no, no." She begged at nothing, shaking her head furiously. " _Please_." She begged hysterically, dropping from the comfort of the padded bench onto her knees on the cold, hard carpeted flooring. "No!" She yelped, digging her fingers into her hair, nails scraping harshly against her scalp. "Not my mum, _please_ , don't hurt my mother!"

"You're scaring me, Andria." Meredith said quietly, picking up her legs and cradling them close to her body. "What the bloody hell do we do?" She asked as the loud wails from her friend slowly dissolved into terror filled, hysterical screams. Andria's remained sobbing on the floor, entire body quaking with the ferociousness of her crying.

"What is going on?" The Sixth year Slytherin Prefect asked, sliding their compartment door open violently, allowing Andria's screams to travel further down the corridors. "Malfoy, what the hell are you playing at?" The prefect looked between Meredith and Elizabeth when Andria showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon. "Well? Greengrass, answer me!"

Elizabeth jolted up into perfect posture. "I – I don't know." She answered. "It just sort of happened, I guess. She just started crying. Real bad, like really, _really_ bad. Didn't tell us what was wrong or anything."

"She said something about her mum" Meredith said quickly. "As she was crying, she said –"

"Hey, Anderson, get Draco Malfoy up here, would you?" The prefect asked. The other Prefect, Anderson, nodded and disappeared down the hall.

Slowly but surely, along with the frost on the windows, Andria's frantic crying melted away, leaving her shaking on the floor in a hot sweat, eyes blood-shot, panting for air. By the time Anderson reappeared, Draco in tow, she was completely silent apart from the small gasps of breath.

"Andria?" Draco asked timidly. She didn't move. Before moving closer to her, Draco's eyes flitted around everyone in the room. "Could you all give her some space?" He asked rudely. Quickly everyone hustled out of the compartment, leaving only Meredith lingering at the door.

"She was begging for your mother, Draco." Meredith said softly. "I don't know what this means, but I don't think it's a good thing."

"Thanks Meredith, that was very insightful. A baboon could have deducted that this entire situation was anything _but_ a good thing. Glad you're here." Draco sneered, taking Meredith's previously occupied seat. Meredith said nothing, but the light blush on her cheeks indicated that that was highly humiliated. Quietly she closed the compartment door. Draco reach over, tugging at the cords for the curtains until they all fell down, covering the windows. "Andi." He whispered quietly, placing his hand on her shoulder cautiously. "Andria." He repeated when his hand came into contact with her flushed skin. Slowly, she peered up at him through her tear-matted lashes.

"I – I don't know what came over me." She mumbled, teeth gripping softly at her lower lip. "I – All I know is that I've never been so scared in all my life. I've never felt terror like it."

"Meredith said you were shouting on mother." Draco mumbled, trying to coax the reasoning out of her.

"I don't know why." Andria sighed, pinching her eyes shut with frustration. Slowly, she lifted herself back up onto the bench, rubbing softly at her sore knees. "Please don't tell father. Or mother. Or _anyone_." Andria pleaded, eyes welling up with tears. "They're going to think I'm clinically insane."

"We'll keep it between us." Draco assured, not bothering to add that several people already knew and all of the compartments up and down that corridor had probably heard her screams. Andria gave him a thankful smile, pawing lightly at her eyes to remove her tears. "Do you want me to stay here a little longer or…?"

"The longer you stay the longer people stay suspicious." Andria mumbled, granting herself a large, much needed sigh, getting air into her lungs had never felt so good.

Draco nodded his head, rising to his feet, fumbling with the hem of his school cloak. "Bloody books, huh?" Andria lifted her head to look at her brother with intense confusion. "They're unpredictable, Andria. Bite you at the slightest jolt." Upon realisation, she smiled gratefully at him.

"Kill you if you give them a wrong look." She played along. With one last smile, Draco slipped out of the compartment leaving Andria alone with her thoughts and especially her embarrassment.


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you hear?" Goyle asked excitedly, looking like a small child on Christmas morning, hobbling between feet. He was alone, Andria noticed, Draco and Crabbe nowhere in sight and immediately, she knew that he had scouted her out. Andria looked around frantically, trying to find her way off the platform and away from him. "Harry Potter _fainted_. When the Dementors came on the train."

"He fainted?" Andria repeated. Goyle completely misread what she was asking, thinking she was leading up to a loud, unstoppable laugh, much like the one he fell into. Andria rolled her eyes, patiently waiting for his to stop. He did, when he noticed he was the only one on the platform laughing at Potter's misfortune.

"You're – You're not laughing." He mumbled, a comical frown appearing on his face.

"Well, no. I'm not laughing. Dementors are – They're the scary shit." At his scolding, Goyle frowned more intensely and nodded seriously. "Doesn't matter who your family are, Dementors are fucking scary. Nobody innocent should have to suffer at the hands of them."

Meredith, Andria's new found saviour, looped an arm over her shoulder, glowering at the younger boy, tugging her friend toward the carriages. "Brilliant way to spend your birthday, isn't it?" She asked teasingly. Andria just rolled her eyes, the hollow feeling in her chest having still not lifted since earlier. "Lizzy saved us a carriage. Just the three of us. Warning off any who even thinks to come close." Andria bundled out a small, half-hearted laugh but Meredith, being the person that she is, saw right through it. "Are you sure you're feeling all right, Andi? You're looking peaky."

"I feel it." Andria murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist tightly, hoping to spread some warmth.

Meredith smiled at her sorrowfully. "I'm sure Elizabeth has some chocolate she can spare you. Chocolate makes everyone feel better, you know." Andria gave her best grin, allowing her trunk to be pulled aside as she stepped onto her carriage.

"Hey, this is – Andria!" Elizabeth said brightly, completely changing her tune from assertively aggressive to cheery and bright. "Chocolate?" She offered, sticking about three bars into her face. Knowing that this was a rare occasion, Elizabeth Greengrass sharing her food willing without having to be forced, Andria took a bar and carefully unwrapped it. She split it into thirds, handing two of them to her best friends as a silent thanks for being understanding and hush-hush about the whole ordeal. Andria hummed into her first bite, her body warming up almost immediately. Maybe Meredith was right, maybe chocolate really _could_ cure everything.

/ / /

"Miss Malfoy!" Andria immediately groaned at the dull, emotionless tone of Professor Snape. "I am required to speak to you." He said lowly upon approaching her. Andria gave a smile to Meredith and Elizabeth, silently telling them to go on but keep her in their prayers.

"What is it you need, professor?" She asked, following him past the entrance to the Great hall, coming to a stop just around the corner, out of sight from the little first years.

"Your brother informed me of your little… _mishap_ on the train."

"That little _rat_!" Andria hissed, already plotting several ways to slaughter and hang him.

"You should be thankful he did." Snape said gravely. "You are well aware of the terms and conditions to your… _medicine_."

"It's hard not to." Andria sniffed. "I must take it at least once a day, before I go to sleep. I even have to take it before a nap. I can't fall asleep without it or something grave will happen."

"Then why, Miss Malfoy, as you appear to be rather confident in the terms and conditions of your condition, did you allow yourself to miss a dosing?"

Andria frowned, looking at her Head of House curiously. "It is with great misfortune, Professor, that I must inform you that I was just as awake on the train as I am now." Snape's narrowed eyes got even narrower, if even humanly possible.

"You were awake?"

"Indeed." The excited chattering of all the first years died down as they all piled into the hall for their sorting. Snape studied her for seconds further, his lifeless, dark eyes seeming to be staring into every inch of her soul. "I was thinking, professor, that it could have been the Azkaban guards." Andria suggested in a small voice. "I heard that Harry Potter fainted, so maybe I could have been affected by them."

"That makes sense." Snape agreed firmly.

"But then it doesn't add up." Andria huffed with frustration. "I've done my readings on the guards of Azkaban, professor. Dementors don't make up things for you to cry about, they play on real memories. All would be fine and well if I knew in my heart that these things that was getting me in such a fuss couldn't have possibly happened."

"How do you know for sure?" Snape quizzed, seemingly bored of his Know-It-All student.

"My mother is alive professor, I saw her myself this morning. She has never been injured to the point of deaths door, neither has she been badly hurt or threatened by anyone. My father has made sure of that."

"Are you getting to a point, Miss Malfoy?" Snape asked in a bored manor, which, _rude_.

"Apparently I was shouting for my mother, begging them not to hurt her, not to _kill_ her." Snape visibly stiffened, his eyes returning to their natural state of narrow. "Maybe I'm just going insane." Andria said quietly, as an afterthought.

"Maybe you are." Snape agreed.

"Thanks." Andria muttered dryly. "My mother would kill me if I didn't ask now, but I need a refill on my anti-psychotics medicine, seeing as I am now psychotic."

Snape rolled his eyes stiffly. "I'll get it to you when I can."

"Thank you, professor." Andria bobbed her head down, strutting back to the Great Hall, smiling apologetically at Professor Dumbledore, who had just taken a stand at the podium. Snape swooped in seconds late, not even looking remotely sorrowful, in fact, looking slightly bitter.

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said and immediately the excited chattering of the new seated first years died down, each and every one of them eager to hear from the Great Albus Dumbledore. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I thin it is best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast…"

Meredith leaned over the table prodding her sharp nails at Andria's hand. "What did Snape want?" She asked in a hushed tone.

"My brother is scum." Andria replied without much context. Meredith snickered into her hand, fully understand what Draco Malfoy had done to upset his sister so much to the point of name calling.

"- be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business." Dumbledore paused, maybe for dramatic effect so all the students could recall todays events. For some, AKA Harry Potter and Andria Malfoy, it was more than a chilling recollection. "They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises – or even Invisibility Cloaks." Andria sneered, casually scanning the rest of the tables – Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff – to really let it set in how bizarre Dumbledore must be to think that anyone of these dweebs would be high-class and we enough known to own an invisibility cloak – if they even exist, that is. "It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

"Slytherin Heads?" Elizabeth asked, her eyes fleeting up and down the Slytherin table in search for the shiny pin badge. "We're all shits." She grunted, realising that none of our table owned the glistening badge.

"On a happier note," Dumbledore picked up from where he left off "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year." Across from Andria, Meredith buzzed with excitement and probably (most likely) sexual frustration. "Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." Everyone's eyes zeroed in on Professor Lupin, who looked particularly scabby in the midst of all the teachers wearing their best robes while he only wore robes that looked tattered and torn. Visibly, from the corner of Andria's eye, she caught Meredith deflate. Together, the hall clapped dully, not a hint of excitement anywhere to be heard.

"So much for new eye candy." Meredith mumbled darkly. "We have an eye _sore_." Andria smiled, rolling her eyes as fondly as she could.

"As to our second new appointment, well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

"He's the sod who's issued book almost killed Andria!" A voice from further down the table hissed amongst the clapping. Andria smiled to herself a little, maybe her brother wasn't as much of a scum as she thought.

/ / /

"Hey, Potter!" Andria hissed as bundles of children hussled out of the Great Hall. Harry looked around, trying to pinpoint the owner of the voice, looking incredibly frazzled and disappointed when he realised that it was a Malfoy.

"If you've come to ask me about my fainting, yes, I fainted. Now, can I get back to living my life?" He asked, looking peeved.

"Can I speak to you?" Andria asked quietly, hoping not to get caught talking to a half-blood, especially a half-blood named Harry Potter. "In private? Please?" Andria practically begged. "It won't take long, I promise." His two friends who she really had no interest in started hissing in Harry's ear, giving him many reasons to oppose to her request. "I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't important." Andria said quickly, realising that she was about to lose.

"Just for a few seconds." Harry said eventually, ignoring the loud protests of his friends. Andria smiled gratefully, watching as he shooed his friends away.

"We'll stick to the back of your house, I'll get in to my common room by sweet talking the portrait." Andria decided, not allowing any space for Harry to get in his input, but he was happy with the arrangement anyhow. "You were affected by the Dementors, weren't you?" Andria asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes." Harry said blandly.

"I – I think I was too."

"Everyone was." Harry shrugged. "Everyone felt terrible after –"

"No, no." Andria interrupted. "You'll probably hear rumours flying about that I was attacked by my magical creatures book, but I want you to know that it's a lie."

"Okay?" Harry asked, looking rather confused.

"I sort of _broke down_. Full on weeping and sobbing like the day I came out the womb."

"So there was more than one Dementor? There was one in your compartment?" Harry quizzed.

"No, I didn't even see the damn thing. I just felt terrible. Unhappy, really scared."

"I heard a woman screaming. But I was the only one who heard it." Harry recalled. "Did you hear anything like that?"

"Truth be told, I was crying because I thought my mum was dead. Along with my entire family." Harry remained silent at Andria's honest answer. "But my mother's alive. So are the rest of my family."

"I think I heard my mother scream. Just before she died. Before I fainted."

"Oh." Andria said quietly. "I'm sorry." She muttered, didn't quite know why she was apologising but she was anyway.

"It's okay." Harry muttered, knowing that he'd be kicking himself later for revealing things like this to a Malfoy of all people. "If you have questions, I'd go to Professor Lupin. He was really helpful – he's the reason they got off the train."

"I'll keep it in mind to have a talk with him." Andria said, making a mental not to actually live up to that. "I'll let you re-join your friends. Thank you, Harry."

"Uh, no problem." Harry said, slightly baffled at the fact that someone closely related to Draco Malfoy used his name – and it _wasn't_ an insult.


	4. Chapter 4

"Line up, line up!" Hagrid yelled, trying to get the attention of the fourth years who had elected to take his class. "No, I have a special treat for ye' all."

"If it's that he's leaving then it really will be a special treat." Meredith whispered, dissolving into a small fit of giggles. Andria snorted, eying up her book with distaste.

"All, er, all of yeh open yer books to the Hippogriff section – that's what we'll be studying today." The class erupted to murmurs of excitement. "Well, come on!" Hagrid encouraged his class. "Open yer books, quicker yeh do, the quicker we can –"

"We don't know _how_ to open them." Elizabeth scoffed from her marked stone when she leaned against it, checking over her nails. "Nearly ate through all my shoes when I did!" The class muttered their agreements, whispering their own terror stories of the monstrous book of magical creatures.

"All yeh have ta do is stroke 'em down their spines!" Hagrid said, like it was completely obvious. Curiously, a small hand full of the students – the ones brave enough to not clasp it down with anything – stroked down their spines, and sure enough, like Professor Hagrid said, the book popped open without a fuss. Slowly, Andria unknotted half of the ball of yarn that her mother had split between her two children for the awful books and stroked her finger down the spine twice. The book shivered open, popping up at the index.

"We're going to have to do this _every lesson_." Andria mumbled, already sensing that her future in Care of Magical Creatures wasn't going to be as fun as she had hoped. "Every time we have homework."

"Bloody hell, Andi, look!" Meredith said in awe, slapping Andria's arm excitedly. Andria looked up from the index and immediately, she spotted the beautiful creatures Hagrid was towing in. They looked exactly like the pictures she had seen in the books, only more beautiful and awe-inspiring.

"Jus' out ah curiosity, how many of yeh would be in'erested in pettin' them?" Hagrid asked, eyes widening in pleasant surprise when a majority of the classes hands flew up in the air. "Let's start in alphabetical order, shall we?" Andria deflated slightly, knowing she'd be pretty low on the list.

Slowly but surely, the queue of people who had lined up started going down, Elizabeth in her arrogant prime snickering as the Hippogriff of Hagrid's choice, Tucker, flapped its wings about at selected pupils.

Eventually, after what seemed like a century later, Hagrid stumbled over Andria's last name. "Ma – Malfoy." Andria grinned, looking to Meredith for confidence, but she wasn't paying attention, too busy jumping around like an excited jumping bean, happy with herself that she got to touch one of the most elegant creatures she had ever set her sight on.

"Now, you'll want tah bow real low – that's it!" Hagrid encouraged as Andria bowed lowly, keeping her eyes on Tucker, keeping her blinking to a minimum. To Andria's delight, Tucker copied her actions, getting down on its scale like legs. "Well done!" Hagrid praised enthusiastically. Slowly, Andria stood up and advanced towards Tucker, her hand extended. She run her hand down the Hippogriff's smooth beak, grinning as it made a purring like noise, closing its eyes in some sort of bliss. "You're a pretty boy, aren't you?" With one last stroke, Andria backed off slowly, returning to her classmates. "I feel alive." She announced, hands on hips, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

The line trickled to nothing and Hagrid dismissed the class looking as pleased as ever with his first class in his teaching career. Nobody got hurt, which wasn't something that could be said for his next class.

"Miss Malfoy, your presence is required in the Infirmary." Snape's voice droned as Andria sat for lunch, her stomach letting out a sad, hungry series of glubs. Andria frowned at the magnificent series of luncheon goods set out at the Slytherin table.

"Like, right no –"

"Yes."

"Sneak me some food, would you, Liz –"

"If you know what's best for you, Miss Greengrass, you'll do no such thing." Andria's frowned deepened as she collected her things, sliding away from the table.

Almost covered from Snape's billowing cloak as she left, she snuck one last look to Elizabeth ad Meredith, both who gave her exaggerate winks, piling some delicious food onto napkins. She smiled, praying to God that they were for her.

The usually quiet, rather dull medical wing of Hogwarts was not so quiet on that particular early afternoon of September 2, the pained whimpers and moans of Draco Malfoy floating around the room, bouncing off each wall. "Bloody hell." Andria mumbled, picking up her pace, dragging herself away from the depths of Snape's wing that she had been forced under. "What happened?" She asked urgently to her younger brother. "What happened?" She repeated to Madam Pomfrey, who had always seemed to make quite the shine to Andria for some unexpected reason, but she wasn't moaning about that.

"He got struck by a Hippogriff, deary." Pomfrey answered, scribbling her feathered quill across some parchment on a clipboard. Andria's eyes widened and she grabbed onto Draco's hand on his non-injured arms, giving it a small squeeze.

"What the bloody hell were you doing near a Hippogriff?" Andria asked attentively.

"Apparently Rubeus Hagrid decided to let a bunch of third years near an entire crowd of them without thoroughly teaching them the basics of Hippogriff handling." Pomfrey muttered, sounding incredibly peeved off. "I'm surprised I only have one admission."

"We never even got to _see_ one last year." Andria huffed. "We did it so close to exams that all Kettleburn did was teach us about them. I just assumed this morning that Hagrid was picking up where he left off."

"Beautiful creatures, aren't they?" Pomfrey asked, reaching to Draco's bedside table and dipping her quill in the little pot of ink.

"Oh, yes." Andria said, nodding enthusiastically.

" _Ouch_." Draco groaned loudly, tossing his head from side to side.

"There, there." Andria muttered, petting his hand. "Do you know if our parents are coming?" Andria asked Pomfrey, not feeling up to hearing the wrath of her father.

"I trust your father should be here in a matter of seconds." Pomfrey mumbled. "Snape sent the fastest owl he could get his hands on to deliver the letter."

Pomfrey wasn't far off, Lucius Malfoy arrived ten minutes after Andria did, storming into the infirmary, blonde hair pillowing behind his head, looking like he belonged in some hair care advert in the magazines. "Mr Malfoy!" Pomfrey greeted with shock, Andria sympathised with her, obviously she wouldn't be used to Lucius' random appearances when he's particularly mad about something.

Immediately, he questioned Draco about the tiny little detail and quite happily, Draco spilled them all.

"Oh, Andria!" Narcissa wailed upon her own arrival, bundling her daughter into a tight, motherly hug. "Thank you for staying with your brother, taking time out of your important classes to care for him." Andria said nothing, not wanting to admit that these _important classes_ was actually lunch.

."It's alright, really, mum, it is." Andria smiled, kind of thankful for her mothers' constant worrying.

"What classes have you had today?" Narcissa asked eagerly, already knowing that if she were to even attempt to sooth Draco Lucius would just get even stroppier and spend the rest of the day making snarky comments and glaring at everything which is no fun for any party involved or near him when he's in those moods.

"At first, I had Care of Magic Creatures. I wasn't hurt though!" Andria added in quickly, noticing her mothers' face turn sour. "We also did some things with Hippogriffs, but we were taught a whole bunch about them last year by Professor Kettleburn just before exams, so the entire class were well educated. Can't say the same for Draco's class. Took us three weeks to learn the basic theory of Hippogriffs."

From overhearing their conversation, Lucius Malfoy went quiet, slowly turning to look at his eldest child. "What did you just say?" He asked lowly. Andria felt really good about not being at the opposite end of his wrath, he had said that to her one to many times when she'd say something she wasn't supposed to.

"The part when I said we also studied hippogriffs or the part when I said the time it took –"

"The time it took." Lucius interrupted impatiently.

"It took my class three weeks' worth of lessons to study the theory of Hippogriffs." Andria repeated.

"Do you have anyone who could vouch for that?"

"Well, my entire Care of Magical Creatures class and Professor Kettleburn, of course. Maybe even Professor Hagrid himself, seeing as we were down next to his hut when learning."

Lucius nodded to himself, giving Andria a genuine smile. "Thank you, Andria. That will be really helpful in my case." Andria didn't bother asking what he meant by case, couldn't be bothered listening to his in depth explanation and then the unavoidable tangent he'd delve about how he had raised his children to be interested in everything their elders said, and she was obviously lacking in that trait. That's a good chunk of her day that she'd like to save.


	5. Chapter 5

Draco was released from Madame Pomfrey the following Thursday, much to Narcissa and Andria's delight. Andria didn't really care where her brother spent his time, just as long as he wasn't with their inferiors, safe, out of trouble and not smacking lips with Pansy Parkinson. She was just delighted that her mothers regular owls (four _a day_ ) would be coming to a stop, or at least decreasing to a steady two a day. That, Andria could handle.

During lunch, Draco had tugged Andria to the side roughly – with his good arm – which would be the second time that week that her younger brother had deprived her of food. "I think I figured out why mother is so worried about Black on the loose." He stated as his opening sentence.

"Well this better be good. I'm bloody starv –"

"Goyle told me that his father told him that Sirius Black was the guy who sold out Potter's parents to You-Know-Who." Draco said matter-of-factly, looking smug. While this was news to Andria, it really didn't explain their mother's behaviour.

"So?" Andria asked. This didn't please her brother in the slightest. "This doesn't explain why mother was acting the way she was. I mean, surely there must be something more to her antics other than Black was the person who ratter Potter's parents out to old Voldy. She offered to move us to different schools –"

"No she didn't." Draco interrupted, looking all sorts of confused.

"She did." Andria said firmly. "She's asked me about twice now."

"Well she hasn't asked me." Draco argued, probably for the sake of arguing. "Why would she asked you and not me?" Draco asked after a few silent seconds, sounding rather hurt that his mother had decided for him that he was staying put.

"Ask her yourself." Andria shrugged. "Well, if that's all, I'm off to stuff my face full of lunch goodness. Let me know it your intestine sniffers get any more information on Black, okay?" Draco didn't reply, just huffed like a stroppy teenager (which he is) and stalked off to his friends who sat at the complete opposite side of the table.

/ / /

 _Mother,_

 _Draco is fine, I assure you. He's back to his old self, still irritating, still annoying, still aggravating, still grating on each one of my nerves and back to meeting me for hot chocolate every night in the kitchens. The only thing different about him is that stupid sling he has holding his arm up. Seriously, it's ridiculous._

 _The school is utterly obsessed with the said notorious mass murderer that I must not mention, but I have to say, mother, that I am feeling incredibly left out of conversations. I remember one of the rules that you taught me growing up about acting like the superior woman you are shaping me to be._

 _Always be in the know about everything, if you don't know it, learn it._

 _You're making that kind of hard as every conversation started about that one person who you will not allow me to mention and don't want me to learn about I know below nothing about him._

 _I'm apologising in advance for any grease marks on the parchment, I don't know any spells to clear them up and I am currently eating my lunch, because Mer and Lizzy and being boring and decided to use this time for homework (crazy, right?)._

 _After lunch I have potions with Snape, which should be a bundle of fun as always! Which Potions has always been in my list of best subject, I don't enjoy it very much. I'm blaming father for this one, tell him if you wish, I just want you to know that the letter I get back in reply saying that I should "take responsibility" for my own actions will only waste precious study time._

 _But I'm only saying._

 _If by any chance you and father decided to produce any more offspring (which I strongly advise you NOT to do, as if it is a girl, how will they live up to my standards? And if it's a boy, you and I both know that Draco wouldn't be able to function by not being the prettiest male Malfoy sibling, which isn't that hard to beat) please do not let him allow the child, who's interested in potions, help in his potion making because his long talks, very detailed speeches and long tangents about the use of whatever ingredients he is using is sure to put them off that subject forever, no matter how good they are at it. Merlin knows that's what happened to me._

 _I think I'm going to start a new tradition in my letters to you. I know that you're incredibly interested in Draco's crush and are utterly devastated that he will not confide in you, but I am here to tell you (write you? I don't know) that he feels like he can confide in myself. He says its because Crabbe and Goyle are buffoons and won't understand, which I agree with, but I think it's because he knows I'm the best with love advice, even though I am not to love for myself unless I fall in love with the guy I am set to marry. Slim chance, and your marriage with father doesn't count! Your parents and father's parents were perfectly happy to let the two love sick teens marry each other as you both came from respectable families._

 _Anyway. Back to the topic of Draco's crush. If you didn't know already, it appears my brother dearest is rather smitten with none other than Pansy Parkinson. I'm not sure what I think of her yet, but I don't like the way she looks. She looks mutt like, and I mean that in the nicest way possible, I swear._

 _I'm shamelessly leaning towards disliking her as quite a few times when I had been visiting Draco she was there, cooing over him and giving me nasty looks when I took his attention from her onto me._

 _But honestly, who wouldn't give me their attention when I walk into a room? Especially compared to her. That was a bit confident, I guess, but compared to her I am look like a supermodel._

 _I guess this just shows that Draco is more of a personality guy than a looks guy, which I am very proud of in all honesty._

 _While I have much more to write as my mind is set at a constant 180 miles per hour, making it easier to write about nothing at all, the girls have just informed me that they are nearly done with their homework and I want to write a short letter to father before they're done so I can sent these at the same time._

 _Much love, hugs and kisses,_

 _Your favourite child, Andria xx_

 _Father,_

 _Draco is still hurt and I am URGING YOU to report this to the ministry as soon as possible as I don't think Hagrid should be let off lightly._

 _I have potions next, which I can't wait for. Feeling the irritable smoke on my face that makes my hair frizzy always somehow reminds me of being younger when we would brew potions together. We'll have to do that during Christmas, so set it somewhere in your very busy schedule, if you can. I think you'll be incredibly pleased with my newly developed potion making skills. Professor Snape says I'm the most advanced in my class, which I guess I can thank you for._

 _Sorry for being so brief, but you know how bad I am with writing and I know you don't have much time to read long letters._

 _Love Andria xx_

/ / /

The following day before breakfast, Andria sent off her letters to her parents with Tabitha, the owl she shared with Draco and returned to breakfast with plenty of time to finish off her Defence homework that was due for her first class. She didn't bother to hide it from Professor Lupin as Meredith sweet talked him, having decided in their first lesson with him on Monday that she could get used to the fashionably malnourished look and the scars she happened to find "rather sexy, if you think about it". Andria was repulsed by her friend.

"I seem to recognise that homework, Miss Malfoy." Lupin had said with a curl to his lips and a joke in his voice.

"Really, sir?" Andria quipped in return, and she didn't even bother to look up from her parchment. "Did they issue this homework in the Stone Ages when you were in Hogwarts?" Professor Lupin had laughed sarcastically at that and muttered something incoherent but said nothing further.

"Upon a recent discovery," Professor Lupin said, entering his class fashionably late. "I have decided to postpone the homework and you can hand it in on Monday after lunch as a certain Andria Malfoy was caught, by one other than myself, scribbling the answers out messily with a buttered croissant half sticking out her mouth." A small fraction of the class groaned unhappily that they had stayed up late last night completing it, but the rest cheered, most of her happy classmates mumbling to their shoulder partner asking for the homework questions that they had forgot were issued.

"As I will not be taking in the homework, my original plan for todays class is ruined, so I looked at what you did last year. It turns out that your previous Professor wasn't the best at teaching. Just talking." The class grunted in agreement, a large majority surprised that they actually learned anything. "My current third years are learning about Boggarts, so I thought we could spend today doing their lesson." Andria gleamed, remember her self-study lessons that she attended almost every DADA lesson while Lockhart spoke about himself.

"Before we start," Lupin started up again "I'm going to ask you all a few questions about Boggarts and then we can head on down to the Staffroom –" Lupin paused for the eager whispers about looking at where the teachers unwind died down "and get started on our practical." Lupin's eyes scanned across the room, looking at each student briefly. "Miss Bennett." Jillian Bennet looked up from her desk with frightened eyes. "Can you tell me what a Boggart looks like?"

"Uhh…" She muttered, looking wide eyes and frightened – obvious signs of not knowing the answer. "A bit like a Dementor. But not like a Dementor at all." She contradicted herself.

"Partially correct." Lupin allowed. "Does anybody know the answer?" He asked, hoping to see some hands go in the air. When none did, he suddenly hated all of Gilderoy Lockhart's books and vowed to burn the ones he owned.

"Nobody knows." Andria answered loftily. Lupin began to have hope for his class. "Why don't I make this incredibly short so we all have the chance to get on with the practical?" She asked, having no intention of letting Lupin or any other person in the room get the chance to talk. "Boggarts are shape-shifters and take the shape of whatever the person they are in front of fears the most. I happen to know that my lovely friend Elizabeth Greengrass, here, is scared my co-owned owl so when the Boggart comes in front of her, it could take the place of my dear, feisty Tabitha. The enjoy dark, tight spaces, much like Hector, over there in the corner does as that's when he enjoys groping his small, pathetic excuse of his manhood while thinking about the Slytherin girls feet. That's right, Hector, don't think we don't know it wasn't you who stole all of our socks and shoes and made us take several foot pictures for their safe return." The class gave chuckles, well, Hector didn't, he just looked highly embarrassed and so he should. Foot perv.

"When faced with a Boggart, you're better in a large group as the boggart will become confused as to what the shift into. Laughter repels Boggarts so when you say the spell, you must think with all the force that you can possibly muster something that will make you laugh your fear right in the face. For instance, Elizabeth might picture my darling Tabitha with Dumbledore's beard."

"And what is the charm, Andria?" Lupin asked, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly, looking rather proud.

"It's _Riddikulus_ , sir." Andria answered.

"Very good." He praised. "Did anybody else bother to take their education into their own hands and use their initiative?" The class remained silent and Lupin hummed lowly. "Very well. Five points to Slytherin for Andria's good work." The Slytherin pupils cheered collectively, many reaching over and patting Andria firmly in gratitude. "Let's head on through to the staffroom to begin our lesson."


	6. Chapter 6

Professor Lupin went over Boggarts one more time almost saying Andria's exact words, only he elected not to use his students as prime examples. He got the class to chant the charm to repel boggarts, which they all did, sounding like they were being held against their wills, wand to the throat, the three unforgivable curses on Lupin's tongue as he held them captive.

"Now, class, can you get into an organised line. Ah, ah, ah!" Lupin tutted as his students scrambled to get in queue in front of the rattling wardrobe. "I said _organised_. To avoid shoving and hexing like my third years, I want you to get in to order of age." Andria smirked, knowing that she was not only the oldest in her Defence class but the oldest in her entire year group. "In order of youngest to oldest." The smirk was wiped clean off Andria's face. Her friends weren't the kind to give empathy either, Meredith especially as her birthday is usually on the week term ends, therefore the youngest in the class. She walked boldly up to the front, stated her date of birth to poor guy Flynn Jackson who had, for the smallest of seconds, believed himself to be the youngest.

The rest of the class eventually sorted themselves out, Andria having to grit out quite a few times to a Hufflepuff girl who insisted that she, with her birthday being on the fourth of September, was the oldest in their year. Andria had never spat out the numbers in chronological order so harshly in her life.

"Right, Meredith, do you understand what you're doing?" Lupin asked, looking on hopefully at the first student in line.

"That I do, sir." Meredith said, shockingly confident for someone who was just about to be faced with their biggest fear.

"Wand at the ready." Lupin said, flicking his own wand at the wardrobe, the door flying open and a gust of wind exiting it, immediately turning into her own father in the flesh, standing there, cracking his knuckles and neck.

Meredith's confident exterior crumbled slightly and her hands immediately began to sweat. "Hello, sweetheart." Her dad grunted, roguishly.

" _Riddikulus!_ " Meredith yelped, flicking her wand. Her Boggart Father twisted and suddenly, the stern looking man in the dark robes was clad in swimming gear, dancing the Irish Elf Flee. The class rumbled with laughter and Meredith beamed at her dancing father.

"Brilliant!" Lupin praised enthusiastically. "Next!" Meredith skipped her way to the end of the queue, standing behind Andria with a large grin on her face.

"You were fantastic, Mer." Andria smiled as the Boggart turned into a large spider, which probably wouldn't be the only time they'd see that.

"Thanks." Meredith beamed. "He's stopped being so aggressive now." She informed. "I think it's because he spends so much time at work and travelling that he's always too exhausted to shout. Doesn't mean I'm not scared of him, though. Just in case he decides that sleep deprivation isn't a reason _not_ to send me a howler of him shouting about how I'm not making good enough grades. Even though it was the second week into school." Meredith's eyes glazed over as the spider began to give a strip tease. The laughter of the class broke her out of her trance-like state. "What'll yours be, do you reckon?"

"I dunno." Andria shrugged. "Maybe my aunt Bellatrix?" Andria guessed. "I don't remember meeting her, but she's done horrific things, and it's been haunting me that if Sirius Black can get out of Azkaban, maybe she can too."

"Maybe it'll turn into Black." Meredith guessed as the Boggart turned into a chicken. "Everyone's pretty scared of that brute."

"I don't think he'd target me. I'm a Malfoy, he'll probably remember that name from when he was in league with You-Know-Who." The chicken started to cluck the tune of the schools cheesy Hogwarts song.

"So if he does come here and you end up face to face with Black, are you just going to chant your full name at him until he backs off?" Meredith asked with a grin. The Boggart turned into a large wasp.

"Never put much thought into my plan if I do end up in that situation, but you've just given me a great one." Andria said, laughing a little. The wasp grew two large feet, no ankles, just feet, and unsurprisingly Hector was in front of it. The class forced out a laugh, in hopes to make the boy go to the back of the line. Luckily, it worked, and he scattered to the back of the queue looking too many shades of pleased. Andria shuddered, not allowing her mind to wonder.

The line dwindled down, four spiders had appeared, two snakes, and, surprisingly, five centaurs had also made their appearance. Bizarre choice of something to be frightened of, but people have their fears. A couple of other things had appeared, but Andria didn't take much notice, her mind running wild with all sorts of thought on what the Boggart might turn into when faced with her. It couldn't be another spider, she's the nominated spider catcher in her dorm as she sees them as nothing more than small little creatures that are below her on the food chain. It wouldn't be a snake, Draco owned one when he was five when his obsession with Slytherin kicked in and that snake was rather adorable. She thought about what Meredith said, about how her Boggart could be Sirius Black which could be true. A fear of the unknown is entirely possible. Thinking of Black then made her think of Lord Voldemort. He's a pretty scary chap, but he is gone, therefore nothing that she could be scared of. Her mind went back to Meredith and how, for her Boggart, she saw her dad. Lucius Malfoy, while scary, wasn't scary to his family. Sure, he was hard and stern and you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of him, even if you are his first born child, but he was loving under his hard exterior. He'd make up fake spells for the monsters under the bed when Andria was a little girl, how could she find that guy scary?

Her mind could no longer wonder as Lupin shouted for his next and final student. "You can do this." Meredith encouraged, gleaming with the excitement that had not yet worn off from her turn. Andria rolled back her shoulders, stepping up to the thin, chalk drawn line, pointing her wand at the unchanged Boggart. Her heart fluttered with anticipation as the Boggart started to twist from the large lizard to a blonde woman.

Andria felt disappointed in her own fear.

The blonde woman dropped to the floor, landing on her front as Andria tried her hardest to identify her. The mysterious woman's face turned towards the class, encouraging a small gasp from them all. The unidentified woman's eyes were replaced with deep, dark holes, slow trickles of blood trickling from her sockets, nostrils and the corners of her mouth. Curiosity and an unknown fear struck her body harshly and she could only just muster up the courage to life her wand. " _Riddikulus!_ "

The woman's' quite frankly horrifying facial features were covered by large Zonko's googly-eyed glasses and an ever-growing fake moustache. In addition, she began doing the worm, coaching laughs from the class.

Professor Lupin congratulated Andria quietly, stopping in front of her, allowing the Boggart to turn into something like a white plate. Lupin allowed his plate to turn into a deflating balloon, directing it to whizz into the wardrobe. With a flick of his wrist, the wardrobe locked. "That was a brilliant effort, truly amazing!" Lupin praised enthusiastically. "For all of your hard work, class is dismissed." There was the few expected hoots that usually occur when a teacher lets you out early, even if it was five minutes before the bell. "Wait, Andria." Lupin said quickly before she could get out the door. "Is it possible if I could speak with you?"

"I have potions next, sir, I can't –"

"It won't take long. If it does, I'll write you a note to Professor Snape explaining your tardiness." How could she argue with that? Being able to miss out on potions _and_ have a liable excuse for it? Yes please.

"Of course, sir, what do you need?" She asked, hoisting her bag further up her shoulder.

"I wanted to ask you about your Boggart, if it's not too personal." Lupin added quickly, as if not to offend her.

"It's not personal at all, sir." Andria shrugged. "I don't even know who that woman was, never mind why she was who the Boggart chose to be. I will tell you one thing, though, scared the living daylights out of me. Smart things, Boggarts."

"They are." Lupin agreed, looking rather displeased that she didn't know the answer to his question.

"I did for a brief second think it was my mother." Andria mused, trying to drag out their conversation. They were working with frog anus in potions and it always leaves a nasty lingering smell. "But her hair was a darker blonde and my mother has some brown in her mix." Something flashed over Lupin's face, a look resembling something close to realisation. "Some close family friends say it was destined to be. My mother and father." Andria said awkwardly. "Because of my mothers strange mix of Malfoy blonde hair and traditional brown from her Black…" Andria stopped abruptly, eyes widening in shock. How could she not remember this? How could she not remember that her entire family line is basically incest and that she's closely related to every single Pureblood family? Sirius Black is her mother's cousin!

"Are you alright, Andria?" Lupin asked with his eyes narrowed in concern.

"Who, me?" Andria asked quickly. "Yeah, I'm fine. I've never been better actually. Is there anything else you needed from me, Professor, or can I get to potions?"

"Actually, there is one thing I should probably do before you leave. I am doing this with my deepest regrets, of course, Miss Malfoy, as I truly think you have the most ambition in your class, possibly even your entire year, but I have a responsibility over all of my students and I cannot elect favourite." Andria frowned with confusion. "While your small lecture on Boggarts was wonderful and truly on form, you're comment about Hector Wilson was unnecessary and, quite frankly, cruel."

"I understand Professor." Andria muttered, feigning sorrow and regret. This wasn't the first time she had been told off for mercilessly teasing half-bloods. "We are all equals at Hogwarts. But honestly, I wasn't picking on him _just_ for his blood type. He really did blackmail us Slytherin girls for all our shoes back. Probably a trait his muggle-born mother passed onto him." Andria held a hand to her chest. "I promise, I'll not tease him about his foot-fetish again. Unless he pinches my shoes, then he'll best be ready for the wrath of Andria Malf –"

"You don't really think that, do you?" Lupin blurted out, looking truly embarrassed after it was said.

"Think what?" Andria asked, tucking her hands behind her back, crossing her fingers tightly, praying to Merlin that he wasn't going to ask that one question.

"That we're superior to other blood types." Lupin clarified, deciding it best to get his answer rather that dismiss it. Foolish choice.

 _If they ask_ , Narcissa Malfoy's voice floated through her head, _you do not tell. That is the one question Purebloods don't ask. We assume until proven otherwise._

Andria hummed, pretending to mull over the question at hand. Luckily enough, the bell rang and she was given her excuse to flee the situation. "I really have to go, sir. I can't be under Snape's wrath. Have a good day, Professor Lupin." Andria left the Staffroom before Lupin had the chance to call after her.

/ / /

Many miles away over in the South of England, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy sat opposite each other by the burning fire, the radio crackling softly in the far right corner of the room, some man wailing about how another guy stole his woman with his wand techniques. It was probably a lot more sexual than the two of them even realised, but they weren't exactly paying attention to anything.

"Christmas break." Narcissa muttered, sounding broken. "We tell her over Christmas break."

"We can just leave –"

"Fudge _said_ , Lucius!" Narcissa yelped, looking directly at her husband with fiery eyes. "If we don't, _Dumbledore_ will!"

"Who cares what that blood traitorous old bat thinks." Lucius hissed, seemingly cool. "We can just move Andria immediately. Get her to a school where the Head Teacher isn't dead set on ruining her life."

"Should he even find out that we were planning on transferring her it would only speed up his telling." Narcissa grumbled bitterly.

"You still send them baked things, don't you?" Lucius asked urgently, straightening out his back, edging slowly forwards.

"This isn't the time for a sugar fix." Narcissa said hotly, looking at her husband as if he were insane.

"It's not about that, I have a solution. One that would get Andria out of Hogwarts immediately. I – I could make a potion. A strong one. A sleeping draught. We put them in that raisin bar only she likes so we know Draco won't touch it, when we're informed about her unawakening slumber –"

"Absolutely not!" Narcissa cried absolutely outraged. "While we may be desperate, Lucius Malfoy, we are not desperate enough to poison our own daughter!" Lucius deflated back into his arm chair. "We tell her at Christmas." Narcissa repeated weakly. "I'll write to Dumbledore telling him our arrangements." Lucius grumbled his bitter agreements, fist clenching around the small piece of parchment, eyes flicking over the last few words.

 _Love Andria_


	7. Chapter 7

It was early morning on Halloween and spirits were high all throughout the Great Hall, third years and above all chattering excitedly about the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Except Andria, of course, because her social life apparently meant nothing to Professor Lupin and the next time she entered his class after he asked her the awkward question to end all awkward questions, he told her that she had skipped out early and missed the detention that he was about to give her. He also said that had she stayed around a moment longer, she could have had it done on the Saturday that had just past but now he had no choice but to give it to her on Halloween, therefore, she missed out on her trip. Croissants with chocolate spread had never tasted so depressing, that was until the arrival of her brother, who sat down next to her with force, looking at her intently and silent and suddenly her croissant only tasted even more depressing and a new flavour was detected: annoyance. "Would you stop staring at me?" Andria hissed, letting her croissant drop out her fingers and drop to her plate with a sad _thunk_.

"You're still taking me and the boys around Hogsmeade, aren't you?" He asked, eyes slightly narrowed. "It would be best for us to get someone with experience to show us around so we get to all the good places before anyone else."

"You have this strange need to be ahead of everyone, little brother." Andria commented, returning the glower. "If only it wasn't just limited to social situations and experiences and maybe extended to your grades." For that, Draco stole the croissant and began chomping down on it, his limited palette unable to detect the sadness and irritation. "I'm not allowed to go." Andria grumbled.

"Sorry, that sounded a lot like you just said you're _unable to go_."

"For once, pea brain, you're hearing was intact."

"Why?" Draco demanded furiously.

"Lupin has me in detention." Andria shrugged. "Nothing more to it."

"Write to father!" Draco squawked. "Get him to knock that scabby twat back into place!"

"Father can't fight all my battles, Draco." Andria snapped. "He can't fight all of yours either, the sooner you realise that, the better." Her brother huffed, snatching her goblet of pumpkin juice off the table and chugging down the rest of it and without saying a word, he left the table leaving with the rest of Andria's breakfast contents in his stomach. "What a fucking noob." Andria grumbled, looking at the empty platters that once held succulent, delicious breakfast foods. Even the jug of juice and water had been drained, much like Andria's soul.

/ / /

"I want you to know, Professor L, that you are my least favourite teacher right now." Andria commented, dipping her quill in her supplied ink pot. "Even lower than Binns, and you can't get lower than Binns."

Professor Lupin wasn't looking, he was too preoccupied with someone walking down the corridor. "Harry?" He called out, sticking his head out of his office door. "What are you doing?" He asked, sounding both amused and concerned. "Where are Ron and Hermione?" Harry Potter, Andria's brain immediately clicked. Suddenly she remember to ask Lupin about the Dementors on the train something she had yet to get round to.

"Hogsmeade." Harry answered, sounding rather glum.

"Ah." Lupin said, understandingly. "Why don't you come in?" Lupin offered his student. "I've just taken delivery of a Grindylow for our next lesson."

"A what?" Harry asked, trailing after Lupin into his office.

"Please excuse Miss Malfoy, over there." Lupin said casually. "She's got a detention for mocking other students." Harry didn't look surprised.

"Hey!" Andria cried, feeling rather defensive. "He likes feet! More specifically, _my_ feet! He stole all my shoes and wouldn't give them back until I took a few pictures of them bare from different angles!" This only served to disturb Harry.

"If you can tell Harry what a Grindylow is, Andria, I'll allow you to stop writing lines and we can just pretend you're doing a detention."

"Will I get to leave?" Andria asked, testing the waters.

"No, but I'll give you one better." Lupin said and Andria hoped that he'd call in for some personal escort to assist her to Hogsmeade, highly unlikely, she'll admit, but it's always good to have aspirations. If only her mother could see her now. "You can sit in my class and have a nice, hearty discussion with myself and Harry."

"Fine." Andria grunted, deciding that it was better than writing _I will not insult other class mates no matter my history with them_ repeatedly and placed down her quill. "Grindylow's are water demons, they –"

"That's enough." Lupin interrupted. "I want Harry to learn something in my class instead of having you teach him."

"You're just scared that I'll challenge you for Defence Against the Dark Arts position, Lupin. I know, I'd be scared too if I was in your position." Andria teased. "And I'd get it, too, I've got a wicked set of achievements under my belt. I bet many of my grades would duel spectacularly against yours."

"I'm sure you would." Lupin smiled, looking at the Grindylow thoughtfully. "We shouldn't have much difficulty with him, Harry, not after the Kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You notice the abnormally long fingers?" Harry nodded. "Strong, but very brittle."

"Don't want to teach him too much Professor." Andria quipped. "He'll need to learn _something_ in your class."

Lupin rolled his eyes, looking rather amused. "Cup of tea?" He offered, looking between his two students. "I was just thinking of making one."

"All right." Harry said awkwardly.

"Please, professor." Andria accepted his offer. "Closest thing I'll get to Butterbeer all day, I suppose, after you stripped away my chance at getting one."

Lupin laughed under his breath, deciding not to comment back as he flicked on the kettle with his wand. "Sit down, Harry. Andria, come closer." Andria scrapped her chair over to Lupin's desk, sitting down like this was her home. Harry, however, stayed still, still looking rather awkward. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid." Lupin informed. This didn't make a difference to Andria. "But, I daresay, Harry, you've had enough of tea leaves?" Lupin joked, eyes twinkling with amusement. Andria smiled, remembering what Draco had told her about their first Divination lesson over their mugs of hot chocolate, although she did suspect that her brother was over exaggerating when he said that apparently Trelawney had tripped over several chairs when seeing that the Boy Who Lived had the Grim in his cup.

"How did you know about that?" Harry wondered, looking at Lupin.

"Professor McGonagall told me." Lupin said, handing Andria and Harry their mugs of tea. "You're not worried, are you?"

"No." Harry denied.

"Rightfully so." Andria chipped in, taking a sip of her tea. "Last year she told me that on the fourth of November I'd receive the worst news of my life. I was petrified, turns out the news was that my missing shoes were being held hostage. Not the best news I've ever had, but it definitely wasn't the worst."

"Anything bothering you, Harry?" Lupin asked as Harry started to look slightly upset. Andria hoped it wasn't the shoe story.

"No." Harry mumbled, sipping shyly at his tea, eyes fixated on the Grindylow. "Yes." He said with a change of mind. He took the seat that was a few feet from Andria and sat down, placing his tea on Lupin's desk. "You know that day we fought the boggart?"

"Yes." Lupin said, sounding unsure.

"Why didn't you let me fight it?" Harry asked, sounding quite upset.

Lupin's brows raised with surprise. "I would have thought that was obvious, Harry." Lupin said.

"Why?" Harry asked, head tipping slightly to the side with confusion.

Lupin frowned a little. "I assumed that if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort." Lupin said. Andria's eyes widened a little, feeling a rush of sympathy for the poor boy. "Clearly I was wrong. But I didn't think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialise in the staffroom. I imagined people would panic." Understandably, Andria thought.

"I did think of Voldemort at first." Harry admitted. "But then I – I remembered the Dementors." A chill ran down Andria's spine.

"I see," Lupin mused thoughtfully. "Well, well. I'm impressed." Lupin smiled a little when Harry looked at him with surprise. Andria couldn't contain her surprise either, wondering why Lupin had just congratulated a student on their fear. Weird. "That suggests that what you fear most of all is – fear. Very wise, Harry."

"Does that mean that I'm scared of dead blonde people with no eyes and blood coming from their face?" Andria asked abruptly, face crinkling with disgust and confusion. Lupin just laughed, didn't bother to give her an answer at all.

"So," Lupin said, turning back to Harry "you've been thinking that I didn't believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?" Asked Lupin shrewdly.

"Well… yeah." Harry admitted. "Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors –" Harry was interrupted by the a loud, firm knock on the door.

"Come in." Lupin called. The door creaked open and there stood Snape in all his greasy glory. He barged his way in, holding a goblet overflowing with smoke. He stopped at the sight of Harry and Andria, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Ah, Severus." Lupin greeted with a chipper smile. Andria couldn't help but smile at the use of Snape's first name. "Thanks very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?" Snape set the goblet down without a word, eyes flickering between Lupin, Harry and Andria.

"I was just showing Harry and Andria my Grindylow." Lupin smiled, sounding pleasant and kind, the complete opposite to what Snape looked. Andria felt thankful that Lupin didn't throw her under the bus and say that she had a detention, but he himself had decided to cut it short, although, Snape probably already knew.

"Fascinating." Snape said without even giving the Grindylow a glance. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will."

"I made an entire cauldronful." Snape continued. "If you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow." Lupin informed. "Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all." Snape didn't sound at all sincere. "Instead of wasting your time looking at a mini elf, Malfoy, why won't you let me escort you to Hogs –"

"Severus." Lupin interrupted sharply, giving Snape a pointed look. Andria felt crushed, almost certain that Snape was about to offer her a personal escort to Hogsmeade, and while he may not be the best company, her friends would be with a nice warm glass of butter beer surely would be.

Snape blinked slowly. "Why don't you accompany me to the dungeons? You can help me sort out my supply cupboard." Andria looked pleadingly at Lupin, begging him with her eyes to help her from this awful situation, but all she got in return was an apologetic smile.

"Thanks for the tea, sir." Andria muttered, bringing her mug to her lips and taking two large swigs.

"No problem, Andria."

/ / /

 _Mr and Mrs Malfoy._

 _With our deepest regrets, we must inform you that Sirius Black managed to gain access into the Hogwarts castle. Further action is being taken and the necessary safety precautions are being carried out. We urge you both to remain calm in this time of panic. Your daughter is in the safest hands and will be at the top of our priorities list. Your child will not come into any harm. That is a promise we can guarantee._

 _Deepest Sympathies,_

 _Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster._

The howler gave one last twirl and dropped onto the coffee table.

"Christmas is too far." Lucius muttered, his eyes unblinking, lips barely moving, posture statue still. "As soon as possible."

"The fourth." Narcissa whispered. "That's our deadline. We'll tell Andria by the fourth of November."


	8. Chapter 8

"Draco!" Andria hissed, peering over the top of the Slytherin crowd and at her brother's blindingly obvious bush of hair as they made their way to the Great Hall for reasons that were not to be disclosed with pupils. Draco shuffled awkwardly back to meet with his sister, looking at her expectantly. He was still in a foul mood over earlier, evidently. "Do you know why we're going to the Hall?"

"I know as much as you do." Draco reported dryly.

"You don't think it has anything to do with Sirius Black, do you?"

"Probably. I knew that he'd get in eventually, he's gotten past the Dementors once, what's a second time to him?" Draco asked rhetorically, even though Andria could recall quite vividly him stating that Dumbledore wouldn't allow such a wizard anywhere near the castle. She decided to keep quiet to prevent further annoyance from her brother.

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle." Professor Dumbledore announced as the doors to the Great Hall were closed. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the Prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the Hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbances should be reported immediately." Dumbledore addressed the Head Boy, who Andria could only assume was a Weasley as he fit into the criteria perfectly. "Send word with one of the ghosts." Dumbledore paused on his way out of the Hall. "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…" With a flick of his wand, the dining tables flew to the edges of the hall, leaving a large, empty space. With another wave of his wand, hundreds of squashy, comfortable looking purple sleeping bags covered the ground. "Sleep well." Dumbledore bid, closing the door behind him.

"Oh, fuck." Andria whispered, digging into her pockets, hoping to find a small vile of Snape's potion, but it was wishful thinking as her pockets were empty. "Oh, Merlin."

"Andi, we've saved you a bag." Meredith called over the loud excited rumbling of the students. Andria gave her best smile, walking to join her friends. "Austin told me that Ellie told him that Lucy told _her_ that one of the Weasley twins told her that Sirius Black broke into the Gryffindor Common room. _That's_ why we're all gathering here for the night."

"And we're to trust dung lickers like the Weasley's?" Andria asked, raising her eyebrows, looking at Meredith sceptically. "They're blood traitors, Mer, we're not to trust a thing they say." Meredith blushed, looking down at the ground with embarrassment. "Anyway, Sirius Black wouldn't _dare_ come into the castle. Not with Dumbledore as Head teacher. He's too powerful."

"He's a blood traitor, too!" Meredith said quickly, looking at Andria pointedly.

"You'd have to be a fool to not realise that Dumbledore is powerful as fuck. Blood alliance doesn't come into this."

"It always comes into it, Andi." Meredith sang, nestling into her sleeping bag. "Always, and you know it."

"Astoria and Daphne are sleeping with us." Elizabeth informed with a grunt. "Astoria doesn't want to be alone and Daphne got stuck with the bag between Parkinson and _your_ brother." Elizabeth nudged Andria's foot with her toes. "Doesn't want to third wheel."

"Don't be vulgar, that's my baby brother you're on about." Andria pleaded, sinking to the ground and crawling inside her sleeping bag. To her surprise, her foot sat upon a crumpled piece of parchment. Curiously, she reached down and dragged it out of the warmth of her fabric, feeling a large wash of relief when it came attached to a blacked-out vile.

 _I give you my deepest regrets, Miss Malfoy, that I did not give you a warning before evacuating the school to the Hall for an overnight stay. Professor Snape says that this is all you need for a goodnights rest._

 _I'll give you a proper warning if there ever is a next time, I assure you._

 _Professor Dumbledore._

Andria raised her brows in a pleasant surprise. A handwritten, personalised note from the Headmaster. Not bad at all. Andria tugged out the cork and drank the contents, draining every last drop with little reaction – she had become numb to the bitter taste.

"Everyone in their sleeping bags!" The Head Boy shouted, sounding far too comfortable with being in charge of a very, very large group of people. "Come on now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!"

"Ten minutes?" Andria whispered, frowning. "It's only nine thirty." She soon realised she was protesting to herself. Elizabeth was busy attempting to comfort her youngest sister as she whimpered, worrying about Sirius Black's alleged break in, and Meredith was talking with a Hufflepuff sixth year about Sirius Black, both of them discussing the ways in which he could have entered the school grounds. Andria sighed, nestling into her sleeping bag, allowing herself to be submerged into other people's conversations surrounding the mass murderer.

"The lights are going out now!" The Head Boy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!" The candles died out at once, the only light being the silvery ghosts who floated about the Hall talking to the Prefects, the enchanted ceiling which was dotted with stars and Andria decided that in order to get to sleep, she'd make up her own constellations, possibly try and find Andromeda, if it was there, as she had been named after it, so it was only right to give it credit.

Hours past, each hour on the clock, a teacher would drift in to check on the student's safety. By three in the morning, the Greengrass' were asleep, huddled together and Meredith was in her own little dream world, sucking on the tip of her thumb like she usually does. Still, Andria couldn't sleep and it seemed like her eye lids were glued open. She wondered if it was because she had missed out on her usual before-bed hot chocolate and gossip from her brother, but when he was injured she went a good few nights without it and slept perfectly fine. Maybe, probably, it was all the Sirius Black talk.

Thankfully, before Andria could think into anything else murderer related, Dumbledore swooped into the Hall, scouting out the Head Boy as the Head Girl had uselessly fallen asleep on the window ledge.

"Any sign of him, Professor?" Head Boy asked and Andria's stomach dropped as suddenly all the speculations she had beaten down about Sirius Black entering the school had become the truth.

"No." Dumbledore answered shortly. "All well here?"

"Everything under control, sir."

"Good. There's no point moving them all now. I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow." Andria shuddered. Black had managed to scare a painting out of their portrait, that's heavy stuff.

"And the Fat Lady, sir?"

"Hiding in the map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without a password, so he attacked. She's still very distressed, but once she's calmed down, I'll have Mr Filch restore her." The Great Hall door creaked open and more footsteps entered the room, stopping before Dumbledore.

"Headmaster?" It had to be Snape, Andria would know that nasally voice anywhere. "The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch is done the dungeons; nothing there, either." Snape reported.

"What about the Astronomy Tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Owlery?"

"All searched."

"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."

"Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?" Snape asked, sounding as if he already had an answer to his question.

"Many, Severus, each one of them as unlikely as the next."

"You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before – ah – the start of term?" Snape asked in a hushed tone, probably not wanting the Head Boy, who still remained glued to Dumbledore's side, looking at his two teachers like hawks, to be a part of their conversation.

"I do, Severus." Dumbledore said with a hint of a warning.

"It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed –"

"I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it." Dumbledore said, not in his usual calm tone, but in a tone that made it clear to Snape that that was the end of that particular topic of conversation. "I must go down to the Dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."

"Didn't they want to help, sir?" The Head Boy asked.

"Oh, yes." Dumbledore answered sounding rather cold. "But I'm afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster."

Before Dumbledore could leave to complete his said task, Snape stopped him quickly. "Has there been any further word about – about the _girl_?" Snape asked, giving the Head Boy the side-eye, looking as if it were his greatest wish to have him disappear.

"Yes." Dumbledore said. "I have made it clear to her parents _and_ Cornelius Fudge that if she is not informed of Black's particular interest with her by the start of term after Christmas, I will take matters into my own hands and inform her myself."

"I don't suspect they took it well."

"They took it better than imagined, Severus. But, given today's events, I will have to shorten that deadline. She deserves to have the best chance if she is ever faced with him, she should be on defence mode at all times." With that, Dumbledore floated out of the Hall. Snape lingered for a few moments before following the Headmaster's actions and fleeing the hall.

Andria spend the time it took her until she fell asleep feeling sorry for the unnamed girl, completely unaware that she was giving sympathy to herself.


	9. Chapter 9

"We will be studying Werewolves." Snape's ever so dulcet tone informed, floating into the classroom, flicking his wand to shut all the windows with a clatter. Timidly, Andria raised her hand as, from looking around the class, nobody else seemed to want to ask about the elephant in the room. "Do you have a problem with this, Miss Malfoy?" Snape asked critically, peering at her.

"Uh, no, Professor." She did, having Snape as a teacher this lesson only meant that she'd have Snape, not only two times in one day, but two times in a _row_. "I'm just curious as to why Professor Lupin isn't here, is all."

"He's ill." Snape answered blandly. Snape picked up a piece of parchment from the desk and almost growled at it, baring his teeth. "Miss Malfoy." He spat out.

"Yes, sir?" Andria asked, sitting up straighter.

"It appears Lupin thinks highly of you." The words, even if they came from Snape, meant a great deal. "I hope it's nothing _other_ than academic." The class gave a collective snort at Snape's implication and Andria just burned.

"Definitely not, _Professor_." Andria seethed, teeth gritting together. "Professor Lupin and I do not have any sexual relations what so ever. _Purely_ academic." Andria's hoping to make Snape embarrassed by his own allegations back fired tremendously.

"Sounds like something someone with something to hide would claim." He commented snidely, placing the parchment back down on Lupin's desk. "He seems to think you as some kind of Defence Against the Dark Arts kid genius." Snape looked at every single pupil in the class briefly. "Compared to this bunch, I think that would be easy." Unfortunately, the class were too dim to realise that Snape had called them all thick-skulled, further proving his point. "What's the difference between the werewolf and the true wolf?" Snape fired, looking directly at Andria with his cold, black, beady eyes.

"Werewolves are turned against their will, the wizard is bitten or scratched by a turned werewolf on the full moon which triggers their own turning. True wolves are born with it and can turn at will, not to be mistaken with children who are born with the werewolf gene because a parent has it. They're still classified as werewolves by the Ministry."

"Correct." Snape said dully. "What is the main difference between Anamagi and werewolves?"

"Sir, we haven't started the Anamagi –" Amanda Anderson, a Gryffindor, butted in.

"Anamagi are wizards who, through hard working transfiguration, are able to turn themselves into an animal which can often reflect their Patronus. Like Professor McGonagall, for example, she can turn into a small tabby cat. Werewolves don't elect to turn and they don't turn through magic, they turn through the moons phases."

"Correct again, Miss Malfoy." Snape sounded less than pleased, which was weird considering he was her head of house and should be encouraging her to soar above her other classmates. "Five points to Slytherin." The Gryffindor's groaned collectively under their breaths while the Slytherin's snickered victoriously. "Your books seem to lack in a werewolf chapter." Snape said, scanning through the glossary. "You will all have to take notes manually on _everything_ said. Including what Miss Malfoy just informed you all on. I hope you all have good, working memories."

/ / /

"We had Snape for DADA today." Andria grunted, taking an angry sip at the hot chocolate that was smothered in marshmallows, whipped cream and grated chocolate. "He implied that Lupin was _more_ than my teacher." Draco had the audacity to snicker. "How's shit with Parkinson?" Andria asked, giving her brother a sly smirk.

"There's nothing going on with me and Pansy." Draco insisted, although the blush on his cheeks said otherwise.

"It's okay if there is something, you know." Andria quipped. "Not only is she a Pureblood with good breeding, only about four in her entire family tree were deemed blood traitors. Also, she's in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. I think father will be happy with that arrangement, most likely hers too. While they do have excellent breeding, they lack in respect within our community which is where the Malfoy's gain tremendously. It's a win-win."

"I just like her, I don't want to _marry_ her." Draco said quickly. "It's too early to think about that kind of commitment with anybody."

"You say that now, but just wait until two years' time when Mother has written you up a lovely list of all the eligible girls and you have to pick yourself three." Andria took a long sip of her cocoa. "It's rather sleezy, isn't it?"

"A bit."

"Thinking about it makes my stomach churn. Some guy who I probably don't even know, who could be _way_ older than me, has my name on a little ticket. Merlin, what if nobody wants to wed me? I'll be shunned."

"Somebody'll pick you." Draco assured in what was probably mean to be soothing but it only riled Andria up more. "I'm never saying this again, so take note." Draco warned. "But you are pretty fantastic. Pretty, too, which will give you an advantage."

"Honey, you're telling me things I already know." Andria teased, laying her mug flat on the counter top, watching the castles house elf's collectively wash the dishes. "Thanks, though." She muttered quietly. "That, in a disturbing way, made me feel better. I'm still going to need a spell that'll make my boobs bigger, just in case."

"That's gross." Draco grimaced.

"What, you don't think that girls will do that when you have to go on dates left right and centre to find your future wife? Because they will. Guys are shallow like that, they just want a physical attraction."

"Girls don't?"

"Well, it wouldn't hurt to have a pretty face to look at." Andria mused, circling her finger around the rim of her cup, collecting cream and licking it off, savouring the taste. "But ideally, for me at least, I would like to marry out of love. Marrying purely for status just seems stupid."

"Hey," Draco said, a small, teasing smile on his face. "What if you're paired with Goyle? His mother was a Yaxley before she married his father, so he's technically a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. What if father finds him eligible?"

"I don't think father _hates_ me." Andria muttered, her mind mulling over what the rest of her life being _Mrs Gregory Goyle_ would be like. Hell, to put it shortly. "Fuck, I need to write to him and tell him not to include your friends _or_ their family."

"He likes you, that's undeniable. Kept Crabbe up half the night when we were in the Great Hall whispering about how you look in sleep wear."

"Stop this immediately." Andria shuddered. "Let's get one thing clear, little brother, I will never _ever_ let my mouth anywhere near that boy."

/ / /

"I thought we were playing today?" Meredith asked, looking confused, holding her Slytherin banners sadly.

"Nah, its Hufflepuff now." Andria answered, waving her small Hufflepuff flag that she had bought off their seeker, Cedric Diggory. "Draco's arm isn't in its best shape so they're playing against whoever instead."

"Ah." Meredith muttered, letting on a small smirk. "Draco's arm is still injured. Does its pain level change with the weather?" She asked, wiping the collecting rain off of her brow.

"You know how it is, Mer." Andria shrugged.

Elizabeth Greengrass crammed her way to the front, weaselling in and out of the crowd to get to her friends. "Andi, a letter arrived for you. Your blasted owl swooped on in through the door just as I was about to leave." Elizabeth reported with a slight pant. "You might wanna get on up there as quick as you can, it was a Howler."

"A Howler?" Andria asked curiously. Her parents never gave her howlers as replies to her letters, except from that one time when Andria's favourite house elf who had more or less acted as a nanny to her while growing up had died. Andria's heart began to race, wondering if anything had happened to Gnibby. "Fuck, I better go, shouldn't I? I'll be back once it's over. If I'm not back by half way through assume Sirius Black has captured me and held me prisoner. Ensure that none of Draco's friends are invited to my funeral, bar Daphne of course." Andria forced her miniature Hufflepuff flag into Elizabeth's hands, stepping past her and shoving her way through the crowd.

The castle corridors were deserted, not a soul was in sight on Andria's path down to the dungeons. She decided to assume that the entirety of Slytherin had decided to attend the game in hopes of watching Gryffindor get thwarted, which Andria had to doubt. Gryffindor were good, especially Potter who had to be the best seeker – mentally, she apologised to Draco – that she had ever seen at Hogwarts. Diggory was, well, he was Cedric Diggory. A smile that could melt an ice-queen, toned muscles, magnificent hair, a jaw line that was to die for, cheek bones that could cut stone and a brain that was still as educationally developed as a first year.

One up in her dorm, she sought out Tabitha, who was making herself comfortable in Elizabeth's bed, letting still hanging from her sharp tallons. "Why must you torment her?" Andria cooed, taking the envelope out of her owls grasp, walking to her bed and sitting it down, along with herself, up by the pillows. It took a few seconds before the envelope drifted slowly into the air, making Andria's heart beat frantically.

" _Andria_." Her mothers voice whispered, sounding broken which was more than worrying. " _My sweet, beautiful daughter. I have never envisioned this day to come, but under the circumstances that we are in just now, your father and I deem it only morally right to tell you the truth._ " Andria had read books, being told the truth never was a good thing. " _Before I get started, my love, I want you to know that your father and I love you very much._ " Narcissa let out a soft whimper and the Howler went silent for a few seconds.

" _I think maybe you've had suspicions._ " Lucius had taken over speaking. " _Maybe you've always known, deep down. Deep down that something was out of place._ " Andria couldn't recall a time she had ever felt like that.

The Howler went back into silence and Andria noticed that her hands were trembling. " _Honey_." Narcissa had resumed her turn in speaking. " _There's no easy way to put this. If there was a way I could tell you that wouldn't make you as upset, I'd do it, but unfortunately, there is only one way._ "

The Howler went back into silence. "Come on, mum." Andria whispered, clenching her hands together. "Please, just spit it –"

" _Andria, my sweet baby._ " Narcissa's voice cracked and so did Andria's heart. " _You were adopted, sweetheart._ " Andria could physically feel her soul being ejected from her body. The Howler continued to talk, but nothing it was saying was settling.

Andria leaned back against her bedpost, eyes prickling with unshed tears. She looked over to her night stand, down at her daily planner and looked at the date.

November Fourth.

/ / /

 **In light of getting my first review (thank you, by the way, barby03! I find myself looking at your kind comment as I edit as it makes my day truly happy!) I have decided that I will be responding to any questions left for this story down at the bottom, here. I will say just in case you decide to leave a review with a question and it isn't answered in the next update, that's because I pre-write my chapters for efficiency and I'll probably forget to respond to your questions and reviews in within the next chapter, so I deeply apologise for that. I'll try to reply on the chapter that's supposed to be uploaded first, but I'm sorry if I don't do that.**

 **Anyway, question answering.**

 **Barby03:** The plot is interesting. **(1)** Will we know more about her daily potion? **(2)** Is she really a Malfoy? I have a feeling her father is Sirius :D I don't remember if you write anything about her hair color or similarity to Draco.  
 **First of all, thank you for reviewing, my heart flooded with warmness after reading this and still does so when I re-read it.** (1) **We will definitely know more about her daily potion, in my mind, I already know what it does and what it prevents and the consequences if she doesn't take it. I have no plans, thus far, to reveal why she needs to take it as often as she does, but there was a little hint in Andria's conversation with Snape in Chapter 3.** (2) **As revealed in this chapter, my dear little Andria who I have grown rather attached to in my days of writing this is not a Malfoy, by blood anyway. I have portrayed Narcissa and Lucius, especially the former, to be doting and loving to their children and treated Andria much like they would a biological daughter while growing up. It'll probably seem like Draco got more attention while growing up, but that is the way that I am wanting it to be planned out, not because Andria isn't their actual daughter, but because I have very concrete views on how the Pureblood wizards would treat a son and daughter. As for her birth parents, I'm going to have to keep that under strict lock and key for just now, but it shall be revealed very soon. I don't think I wrote anything about her similarity to her brother or her hair colour, but I imagine that she does look rather similar for her not to take a wild stab in the dark and guess that she's not really related to them.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Songs I listened to while writing: -Beginnings by Houses  
-Letters From the Sky by Civil Twilights  
-Grow Old by The Naked and Famous**

 _Andria_.

 _My sweet, beautiful daughter. I have never envisioned this day to come, but under the circumstances that we are in just now, your father and I deem it only morally right to tell you the truth. Before I get started, my love, I want you to know that your father and I love you very much._

 _I think maybe you've had suspicions_. _Maybe you've always known, deep down. Deep down in your heart that something was out of place._

 _Honey_. _There's no easy way to put this. If there was a way I could tell you that wouldn't make you as upset, I'd do it, but unfortunately, there is only one way._

 _Andria, my sweet baby. You were adopted, sweetheart. I'm going to say again that just because you aren't our biological child, that does not, under any circumstances, mean that we love you any less than Draco. You are my daughter, Andria, nothing will ever change that._

 _When you get over the initial shock, you're probably going to want to find your biological parents. As your father I have a duty to inform you that your time will be wasted upon searching. Your biological mother's name is Marlene McKinnon. She was senselessly slaughtered along with her entire family during the first Wizarding War Death Eaters, whether on order or not, I am unsure but I do know that their actions left only you as a survivor. Your father's name, you may be more aware of. Rabastan Lestrange, who is currently serving out his days in Azkaban. He is not a man you want to know, Andria._

 _You're probably wondering why the Sirius Black situation has anything to do with this. Years before you were born and when he attended Hogwarts, he attended with your mother and father. He developed some sort of fixation with Marlene McKinnon, became obsessive to the point where he had convinced himself that he was the rightful father to her child; you._

 _Your father and I have lived in fear ever since the news that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, and I hope that you can see why. We had concerns that he would still feel like he had ownership of you and try to seek you out, our concerns were confirmed when he broke into the school._

 _I despise myself for breaking this news to you this way, Andria, it truly will haunt me for the rest of my life._

 _We love you so much sweetheart,_

 _Mother and father_

"Andria?" A soft, muffled voice asked, closing the door silently behind them. "Andria, why didn't you come back down to the game?" The voice asked, but Andria wasn't paying attention. Her mind was filled with cotton, her cheeks stained with tears that burned like acid, her eyes filled to the brim, the salty solution threatening and succeeding to fall off her long, damp eyelashes. Her jaw was clamped shut, almost as if her teeth were permanently glued together. Her previously curled-to-perfection hair was now limp, flat and near straight. She had lost the ability to react to her surroundings, her mind stuck at that one word. _Adopted_. How could one word carry enough stigma to ruin her entire life? How could one word have the ability to make everything she had ever stood for and believe in crumble to pieces? How could one word have the skills to leave her, in a castle full to the brim with wizards and witches alike, so undeniably alone?

"Andria, are you listening?" The voice asked, growing impatient. "Meredith and Elizabeth said you had only come up here to listen to a howler and on your way to the castle you said something about Sirius Black –"

"Don't mention him!" Andria yelled suddenly, unexpected to even herself. She screwed her eyes shut, forcing two fat tears to stroll down either cheek, down the path the tears before them had engraved into her skin. "Please," She pleaded, voice hoarse. "Don't mention that bastards name again." Her loathing for Sirius Black had never been so strong. It was because of him her life was now ruined, because of him that she belonged to nowhere. Belonged to nobody.

The owner of the voice tugged the letter from her grasping hands, unfolding it to read. Andria opened her eyes once more, looking towards the voice's owner. Draco Malfoy stood boldly by her bed, eyes slowly looking over the letter, taking in every word. Her heart broke. The boy she once knew to be her little brother was now nothing more than an acquaintance. She studied his facial expressions, able to detect which word he was on at which paragraph just by the movement of his brows. Once he finished reading, he looked at her silently. "Are you still pureblood? The letter doesn't say if Marlene was a half or pure. Lestrange, his brothers married to Aunt Bellatrix, so I can only assume…" He trailed off, looking back down at the letter. Andria didn't respond, just gave a weak shrug of her shoulders. "Andi, this doesn't mean you're not my –"

"Don't call me Andi." Andria spat sharply. "That's a nickname reserved strictly for friends and family. And quite frankly, Draco, you are neither." Andria watched as Draco flashed through a series of emotions, the prime one being hurt.

Finally, his face settled on anger, an unnecessary, reasonable anger. "So what?" He asked harshly. "Because of one letter I'm no longer your brother? Does growing up together mean nothing to you? The traditions that we built together?"

"Fuck the traditions." Andria snarled. "Do you see this, _little brother_?" Andria grabbed the letter from him, shoving it back in his face. "This is confirmation that I am no longer a Malfoy, no matter what moth – _Narcissa_ and Lucius write in a damn letter." Andria retreated the letter, slapping it down on her desk. "Blood is everything, Draco. You should know that by now. Status and blood trump all. I am no more a Malfoy than you are – than you are my brother."

"You're being petty." Draco sneered, hands fisted at his side and eyes looking a little sad. "All because – because of something they told you for your protection? You're being _pathetic_ Andria!"

"I'm probably the daughter of a blood traitor, Draco." Andria said, voice now silky smooth as opposed to her previous hoarse tone. "Do you think Voldemort would have ordered the senseless slaughter of a woman and her _entire_ family if she had been a loyal servant?" Draco remained quiet. Andria let out a small, cruel laugh. "You and I both know that you're a blood traitor by association, even if you can't remember meeting the _damn_ culprit." Andria pulled herself to her feet, steadying herself as she stumbled slightly. "Do you really want to be a brother to a blood traitor?"

"You – You have no proof she was –"

"The Dark Lord wouldn't kill one of his most loyal follower's wives family. Don't play dumb. You know just as well as I do that I am now the daughter of a blood traitor and a prisoner in Azkaban." Andria walked over to the window, looking over the surface of the lake. The two of them stood in silence, neither of them daring to look at the other, Draco's eyes became transfixed on the card on Andria's bedside table that went untouched from her angry grasp. His heart became unfamiliarly heavy, watching the picture as it moved. It was sourly ironic as he recalled the small message he had written on the inside:

 _Family over all, forever._

 _Happy birthday, Andria, I'm positive I'll make your day truly special._

 _Love, your favourite family member and favourite brother, Draco. X_

Sourly ironic, indeed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Up in Flames by Ruelle  
\- California Dreamin' by Sia**

Rubbing her lips together, Andria took a closer inspection to her retouched make-up. Her concealer had done the trick to hide her puffy red eyes and a quick drying charm had dried her lashes and face. She looked like she did that morning only her eyes were slightly sadder, but that could be easily covered up with a smile. The letter was stuffed between her pillow and the pillow cover, so even if her nosey friends decided to scout out the remainder of the howler, it would remain undetected.

Standing up from the dresser chair, she turned towards the full-body mirror, watching herself as she flattened her hands over the black fabric of her dress that was a mere two and a half inches precisely above the ground. She tightened the tanned, thick belt a little more, forcing herself to stand straight. Andria's hair was no longer a sad collection of loose curls, it was now pin straight and showed no sign of giving up and resorting back to her natural waves.

She made the quick decision to abandon her cloak, leaving it hanging upon her bed post, letting it mingle with her drapes. Descending the girls dormitory stairs and into the common room, only Draco was there, sitting on an armchair next to the fire, eyes transfixed on the dwindling flames. She elected to ignore him and sit at the opposite side of the common room, picking up an old issue of _Young Witches Today_ that she had read one thousand times over. If Draco had ever spared her a glance during the twenty minutes they sat in the same room together, alone, Andria never took notice, reading article after article intently.

 _How to get the guy you really like's attention_

 _How to get your crush to like you back_

 _How to go from bad kisser to expert kisser_

 _Does he love you?_

All articles that were useless to a girl with Pureblood extremists for parents.

Andria sat up straighter, eyes widening slightly with realisation. These articles were useless to girls with parents who were Pureblood extremists, but Andria had, from what she could remember, never met her parents. Sure, it was a given that Lestrange was most definitely a fascist, considering his alignment with the Dark Lord, but Marlene, her mother Marlene, was murdered by Voldemort's followers along with her entire family. He wouldn't do that to someone who was loyal to him. There was no way her biological mother could have been anything less than a half-blood, at the least. The Lestrange's, a family part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, marrying off their youngest son to a muggleborn or muggle? No way. Half-blood would have been harder for them to swallow, definitely, but it had been done before under harsh circumstances. Andria had never heard of a McKinnon family before, but that could be because good old Voldy had ordered their execution. McKinnon wasn't on the Sacred Twenty-Eight list, but like the Potter's it could be because it's a common muggle name. Andria sighed softly, her eyebrows creasing together. "Marlene McKinnon." She mumbled softly to herself. "Who are you, Marlene McKinnon?" Andria started to tap her fingers against the leather of the black sofa, stopping when the Common Room door opened and followed with a series of exciting chattering from the Slytherin pupils, just returning from the game. The line of people didn't seem to be stopping any time soon, and from the little segments of conversation going on around her, Andria had a rough idea of what went down.

Dumbledore got Angry at Harry Potter for falling off his broom and allowing Cedric Diggory to catch the snitch, but before Diggory could, he was faced by a Dementor who he shouted at for being on school grounds. Hufflepuff won.

Something told Andria that this maybe wasn't in the right order, but it sounded like an exciting game nonetheless.

"Andria!" Elizabeth said loudly, grabbing Meredith by the arm and pulling her towards their friend. "When you didn't come back we were both so worried that Sirius Black –" Andria covered up her cringe as best as she could " – had gotten to you, so when Draco came over asking where you were and went up to check on you we were sort of relieved, because we didn't want to miss the game –"

" _Elizabeth_!" Meredith scolded.

"She deserves the truth." Elizabeth snarled back, glaring up a frenzy. At least there's one person who thinks I deserve the truth, Andria thought glumly. " _Anyway_. When Draco didn't return we started to worry again but then that Potter boy fell of his broom and we sort of forgot about you. Only for a second, though!"

Andria smiled and gave a little shrug. "It's fine."

"So what was in the Howler? Was that why you didn't come back down to the match?" Meredith asked curiously eager.

"Um, I'm –" Andria paused, frowning. "I'll tell you both later, all right? There's too much extra ears in here who I don't' want knowing."

"Oh, okay." Meredith said, sounding a little sad that she wasn't getting told immediately. "Anyway. The game!" Meredith and Elizabeth told Andria every single detail, correcting Andria's order. Personally, she thought that her idea was better.

"Sounds intense." Andria commented, her mind circling back to Marlene McKinnon and her own mysterious heritage as Meredith took the issue of _Young Witches Today_ off of Andria and flicked through it lazily. "Hey, can I ask you guys something?" Andria asked. The two girls nodded, motioning her to carry on. "Have either of you heard of a McKinnon wizarding family? I came across the name when I was reading and it's been stuck in my head ever since. I don't remember being told about their family when growing up."

"McKinnon?" Elizabeth asked. "Uh, yeah. When my father talks about the days when the Dark Lord was in power he often talks about them. They were all slaughtered because of their youngest daughter's beliefs or something. My father finds it unfair. The McKinnon's were loyal, he says, didn't deserve it because of that one wench."

"So they were Pureblood?" Andria asked.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yeah, my dad said they had one of the purest blood lines. Like yours, Andi. They came from somewhere in Scotland. My dad was good friends with the guy who was married to one of their daughters." Andria nodded, suppressing the urge to frown. There was more than one daughter. She felt like it would be too suspicious to ask if her father was friends with Rabastan Lestrange. At least this piece of information gave her clearance, she was Pureblood. Possibly the daughter of two fanatics, possibly the daughter of one fanatic.

Having one of her questions answered only opened the flood gate for many more. Would have she been raised like Narcissa and Lucius raised her? Would have they allowed her to make her own decisions regarding her love life? Would have Rabastan made up a list of eligible bachelors like Lucius has probably already done?

Andria decided to answer her own questions instead of get actual facts. She took it upon herself at that very moment to decide that no, Rabastan Lestrange wouldn't have cared. He would have just wanted her to marry someone Pureblood. That he felt like the sentiments of arranged marriages did nobody any good and that a lifetime of unhappiness was too much of a price to pay just to keep blood pure. Marlene would have been on the same boat, regardless if she was an extremist or not. She would have wanted her daughter to be happy.

Her real parents would have been like the Walker's. Her real parents would have let her be herself, much like Meredith can be. "Mer?" Andria asked quietly, letting her imagination runaway with her and doing nothing to stop it from doing so.

"Yeah?" Meredith asked, not lifting her eyes from her magazine.

"You've kissed a guy before, haven't you?"

"Of course." Meredith said smugly, her eyes only flicking up to meet Andria's for a few split seconds. "French kissed them and everything. That's when you kiss with –"

"Tongues, yes, I may be sourly inexperienced but I am aware of the terms."

"You're not thinking of rebelling, are you?" Elizabeth asked, looking at Andria with wide eyes. "You promised! You promised that we'd go on our first dates together next summer! With the short list of guys who we want to wed!"

"I'm fed up of waiting." Andria shrugged. "This is the twentieth century." She said firmly. Meredith hooted, shaking her fist in the air with vigour. "If I want to kiss a boy then I shall. I don't need permission from my father on when I get to blossom into a woman."

"I thought we were talking about kissing?" Elizabeth asked, shoulders slumping. "You've just went straight to the topic of sex!"

"It's an example."

"You're feeling awfully brave, aren't you?" Meredith laughed, placing down the magazine. "Care to live up to the platter, my young wolf?"

"Of course." Andria said boldly. "I'll do it right now if you want." Both Meredith and Andria ignored Elizabeth's wails of protests.

"Alright." Meredith muttered. "I'll pick the boy. My first kiss was Darren Milson. He looks like the bottom of a shoe with dog dirt on it, but he was a surprisingly good kisser. You're not getting a hottie for your first time, you're not getting off that easily." Meredith looked around the Common Room almost hungrily. "I'll do a year gap. Either in the year below us or the year above."

"Okay." Andria agreed, her inside busting with adrenaline. She had never rebelled before and it felt sort of wonderful.

"How pissed off are you at your father?"

"Who says I'm pissed at him?" Andria asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"The fact that you're willing to even test your daddy's patience, lovely." Meredith snickered. "It paints a big picture."

"Just pick someone, I don't care who. He'll be pissed either way."

"You're both ridiculous!" Elizabeth said loudly. "Andria, you're ridiculous for even tolerating the thought, who do you think will marry you if you've already snogged another guy? And Mer! You're family isn't as harsh about this stuff as ours is, you have no idea about the trouble Andria will get into!"

"I've had my fair share of experience with angry fathers, Elizabeth." Meredith huffed. "And I happened to think that the British Pureblood wizarding ways are old fashioned." Meredith twisted back around and gave Andria a smile. "And did you think I'd give her someone easy? This is going to test our dear Andria's limits. If she does it, then her daddy is so deep in the pisser."

"So you've picked, then?" Andria asked, almost eagerly.

"Have I picked?" Meredith scoffed, relaxing back into the sofa. "I have indeed, little wolf. Go and kiss Gregory Goyle. If you're so serious about sticking it to the man." Elizabeth visibly relaxed and let out a floaty laugh.

"Fine." Andria shrugged. The laugh was ripped curtly from Elizabeth's mouth.

"You're going to waste your first kiss on _Goyle_?" She asked doubtfully.

"Why not?" Andria challenged. "He has a crush on me after all, why should I waste my first time on a guy who probably hasn't looked at me twice?"

"Uh, because he's your brothers best friends?"

"Uh, I think you're forgetting the part where I'm sticking it to the man?"

"Shit," Meredith muttered lowly. "She's not just angry at her dad, she's angry at Draco, too. If she starts flunking classes then you know she's angry at her entire family."

"I'm sticking it to the man, Mer!" Andria called happily, starting her walk over to the other side of the Common Room where her culprit sat with Draco and Crabbe. "Hey, Gregory, can I speak to you for a minute?" Goyle looked up, eyes widening with surprise at the use of his full name.

"Uh, um, y – yeah." He stumbled, throwing himself off the arm of Draco's chair.

"Goyle, what are you doing? Where are you going?" Draco demanded, looking rather outraged. Goyle ignored his friend and instead decided that following Andria over to the bookshelf by the fireplace, only mere meters from Draco's outraged self was a better idea. Andria positioned herself so that he was standing against the wall, which was easy enough as he probably would have massaged her feet if she asked.

"What – What did you want to talk to me about?" He asked, words just spraying out his mouth. "You look hot today, I mean, you always look hot and I spend quite a bit thinking about you, that sounded wrong, I just –"

"Gregory." Andria said softly. "Please be quiet." Without hesitation or another thought, Andria leaned up, placed her hands on Goyle's shoulders and pressed her lips lightly to his. It was as if Goyle's lips had the ability to make the entire Common Room go utterly silent as not a mutter was heard. Well, not a mutter but Draco's splutters of shock, Elizabeth's tuts of disapproval and Meredith's loud, happy laughter. He smelled surprisingly good for a third year, Andria noted. His lips were rather soft and his hands waved around by her sides, not touching them but he was definitely thinking about it. Andria leaned back a bit, giving his shocked face a smile.

Almost as if on instinct, which it was as she didn't actually think about kissing him again, she stepped closer to him, pushing him against the bookshelf and pressing her lips to his once more, letting her mouth open a little. He kissed back more confidently this time, even managed to place his hands on her waist.

" _Petrificus Totalus_!" Almost at once, Goyle's limbs snapped together and he fell to his right with a sad _thlunk_.

"Draco!" Andria yelled, turning around to see Draco pointing his wand angrily to where Goyle once stood. "What in Merlin's name were you doing?"

" _Me_?" Draco yelped, looking at Andria with a certain degree of hurt because of her actions. "What was _I_ doing? You were the one who was just snogging one of my best mates! And you have the cheek to ask what _I'm_ doing?"

"You're such a petulant child!"

"Father's going to be furious with –"

"He doesn't have to know if you don't tell him!"

"Do you think you're allowed to do this kind of stuff?" Draco asked hotly, tucking his wand back into his cloak.

"I think I'm allowed to do whatever the hell I want!"

"Well, isn't this ever so sudden? Just because you got a letter saying that you're adopted and Sirius Black is hunting you down doesn't mean you can –" Draco stopped abruptly as the entire Common Room gasped and Andria's face crumpled.

"What have you done?" She cried, tangling her fingers in her hair. "People weren't supposed to know!"

"I – I didn't – I didn't –"

"Mean it?" Andria demanded. "Save it for your pity party. You fucking meant it. You're nothing but a malicious, _cruel_ little boy, Draco Malfoy, I'm damn glad that I'm not really related to you. I fucking dodged an unforgivable curse with that one, didn't I?" Without looking at her fellow Slytherin's reactions, Andria ran swiftly up the stairs, into her dorm and locked herself in the toilet. Nobody dared to follow her.


	12. Chapter 12

**Song I listened to while writing: - Smile by Mikky Ekko  
\- Devil's Work by Miike Snow**

The next morning at breakfast, Andria sat alone. Not by choice, but because everyone else either feared being around her thinking they'd get marked for death by Black or they thought that Draco was in the right to spill her secret the previous night.

Well, she was alone until none other than Gregory Goyle sat next to her.

Andria ignored him, flipping over the page of her forbidden romance story between a Pureblood and a Blood-Traitor. "I come bearing toast." He announced, not yet realising that he was being ignored. "Listen, I want you to know that I think Draco was dead wrong for saying what he said." Andria stopped reading, but didn't give Goyle any indication that she had done so. "I still like you. Black on your trail or not." To Andria's unwelcomed surprise, Goyle slithered his arm around her waist and pressed his face into her neck.

"Oh, fucking Hell." Andria growled with a shudder, sliding herself roughly across the bench and away from Goyle. "What _are_ you doing?" She hissed quietly, hoping that the four students from Hufflepuff who were currently staring at her didn't see the monstrosity of a move that Goyle had just pulled on her.

"I was giving you a cuddle." Goyle answered, looking a little hurt by his rejection.

" _Why_?"

"You kissed me last night." He grinned, looking beyond pleased with himself. "Twice, actually."

"I was there." Andria muttered dryly.

The smile dropped from Goyle's face and he began babbling. "You – You called me Gregory!"

"That _is_ your name, isn't it?"

"I thought we were dating!" Goyle said loudly, certainly loud enough to not only attract the attention of the entire Slytherin table, but also the rest of the Great Hall. Including the teachers table.

"I want to die. Right now. Immediately."

"So you was just leading me on then?" Goyle demanded, not showing any signs of lowering his voice.

"Please, keep your voice down." Andria begged, hanging her head and shutting her eyes tightly.

"You kissed me twice!" He yelped, standing up from the table and looking at her with broken eyes.

"Shit, man, would you sit down?" Andria pleaded. "You're attracting unneeded attention."

"You was my first kiss! And it meant nothing to you!" Goyle clumsily picked up the stack of toast he had brought over, squashed it with his big hands and held it up, melted butter seeping through his fingertips. "I brought you _toast_!"

"I don't even like toast!" Andria squealed, getting to her feet to be at Goyle's level.

"Do you even like me?"

Andria cupped her hands over her mouth and nose, turning away from Goyle and to the front of the Great Hall. She took several deep breaths before turning back to look at him. "Let us get one thing straight, alright?" She asked slowly. "I have _never_ liked you. I've always found you annoying and creepy. Last night I took advantage of you for personal reasons. Whether you benefited from that is solely up to you, but I would like you to take note that the _entire_ hall is watching. That's the entire student body of Hogwarts. Including the teachers." Goyle at least had the decency to blush with embarrassment. "Now that you have succeeded in making my terrible week worse, I would like to leave. Preferably forever, because Merlin knows that's how long everyone's going to hold onto this, but I'll settle on until I decide that I want to join civilisation again. Again, that might be never. So, please, for the _love_ of _Merlin_ allow me to at least walk out this hall with the morsel of dignity I have left." Goyle, the prat, actually began to consider it. Andria huffed impatiently, steeping around him and fleeing the Great Hall, all eyes on her as she walked. This was totally not how she wanted her day to begin.

"Miss Malfoy!" Professor McGonagall's voice floated through the corridor, stopping Andria in her tracks. "Miss Malf – there you are."

"Here I am." Andria muttered dully.

"That was quite a performance." McGonagall commented with something short of a teasing smile.

"One that I wanted no part in, believe me professor." Andria muttered, twisting her hands together.

"I need to talk to you about the Hogsmeade visits." McGonagall said, her face not giving anything away as to if this conversation would be positive or negative. "Miss Malfoy, I –"

"Sorry to interrupt, but could you please use Andria instead?" She asked, biting her lower lip slightly, praying to God that McGonagall wouldn't ask why.

"Oh, I'm sorry, dear, it completely slipped my mind." McGonagall apologised, completely taking Andria by surprise. She didn't expect the teachers to know at all. "Where was I?"

"Hogsmeade visits." Andria reminded her with a tight smile.

"Ah, yes." McGonagall said glumly. "I'm afraid, Miss – Andria, I'm afraid that I don't come bearing good news." Andria slumped, not sure how she would be able to handle another round of negative emotions. "Due to your situation with Sirius Black, the Faculty has come to a unanimous decision that it would be best for your safety if you were to stay inside the castle. Professor Lupin has offered up his time during the visits so you don't have to be alone if you don't want to be."

"This isn't fair." Andria complained, frowning deeply. "If we want to talk about safety, Professor, then surely I am no safer within the castle than I am in Hogsmeade. After all, he scared off the Gryffindor Common room portrait! What if he comes to Slytherin next? During a Hogsmeade visit and I'm in the Common Room?"

"Dumbledore is doing everything he can to not let Sirius Black within the castle –"

"Because it worked so well last time." Andria grumbled, feeling herself pettishly start to tear up. "I feel like such a child." She mumbled, running her index fingers under her eyes. "Crying over a silly trip to Hogsmeade."

"Perhaps it would be within your best interest to take some time off from education. Not completely, just stay off from classes and get a couple of your friends to give you homework." McGonagall suggested. While the offer was really tempting, Andria declined almost immediately.

"Professor Snape would never allow it." She grumbled.

"He already has." McGonagall smiled. "We discussed it at the faculty meeting yesterday. Each one of your professors and the Headmaster were more the happy to give you the time off that you need, but only if you catch up in your own time."

"Thank you, Professor." Andria smiled, bowing her head a little as a sign of respect and gratitude.

"My office is always open if you want to talk." McGonagall said with a smile before slowly turning and making her way down the corridor. "And the way Professor Lupin was talking, his is too!" She added loudly. Andria stood still, watching McGonagall disappear down the corridor. Andria sighed as Professor McGonagall vanished around the corner, pushing the heel of her hands into her eyes.

She made a slow walk down to the Slytherin Common Room, muttered the password sourly and retreated to her dorm, face planting on top of her bed, letting out a loud groan. "I don't know whether to keep you or burn you." Andria muttered, sticking her hand into her pillow case and fiddling with the letter. "What about you?" She asked, peering out from the pillow and to the birthday card she had received from Draco for her fifteenth. "Should I burn you?" The card stayed completely still and silent. "I'm talking to inanimate objects." Andria sighed, burying her face back into her pillow. "I've gone completely bonkers."


	13. Chapter 13

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Christmas Lights by Coldplay  
\- Ghost by James Vincent McMorrow  
\- You by Keaton Henson**

Andria took full advantage of her "get out of class for free" pass and only turned up to Defence Against the Dark Arts, which pleasantly surprised Lupin, but he made no comment which Andria would be eternally grateful for.

Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were the only two professors to give pleasant, light chit-chat when she went to collect her work from them. Professor Binns handed her a long list of things to research with very small conversation. She didn't bother going to Professor Trelawney as Divination was a subject she had no interest in at all. Professor Snape was, well, he was Professor Snape and handed her the ingredients along with a list of page numbers she had to refer to and snide comments with nothing less than a curt smile and snarl. Professor Sinistra was rather dismissive, handing Andria a large chart of start and telling her to name the constellations and that she'd catch up on tracking the movement of the planets when she saw it fit to return. Professor Sprout was sympathetic, which was to be expected, giving Andria a sad smile, handing her mounts of parchment with the notes that she had taken through their scheduled class. She had learned that Sprout found everything about Herbology fascinating and had written basically an entire script of what she had said that lesson. Professor Hagrid had to be the worst to go to, he could barely look her in the eyes as he thrust a short list towards her of what they covered. Luckily, Care of Magical Creatures spent quite a bit of time hanging up over the animals so she only visited Hagrid on Friday's, which admittedly was against McGonagall's rules because she could have been issued homework, but Andria had never been one for rules.

It was the day Term ended, tomorrow would be another Hogsmeade trip that she was strictly not allowed to attend and had no plans on sneaking there as for the time being, Meredith and Elizabeth were avoiding her like Dragonpox and cowered when she said the smallest "good morning" which was ridiculously pathetic. The only thing far more pathetic than that was the fact that Professor Lupin seemed to be her only friend. She ate lunch with him in his office, he'd supply sandwiches, biscuits and gillywater and pumpkin juice. Funnily enough, Andria didn't mind it in the slightest. Lupin's company was oddly calming and he had many great stories to tell her about some of the few pupils in his classes.

Andria smiled politely, taking the list from Snape which showed the list of pupils who would be remaining at Hogwarts for the holidays. Usually, Snape issues a piece of parchment requiring the pupils who were planning to leave for home's signature, but he had went through three double sides of parchment and there still was a large queue, so he decided to change it up for quickness. Andria quickly scribbled down her name on the first dotted line and turned to hand off the quill to the next in line only to find that she was alone. "Is that everyone signed their name?" Snape asked loudly over the chatter. "Remember, this is a list of people who are _remaining_ at Hogwarts. I repeat, a list of students _remaining_ at Hogwarts over the holidays." The Common Room stayed silent, nobody moving. "You're in luck, Miss Malfoy." Snape drawled and Andria flinched, her new found loathing for Snape getting stronger as he still refused to call her by her first name. "You'll have the entire common room to yourself over Christmas." Andria didn't bother to reply, she turned around and walked over to the lonesome armchair, collapsing in it.

"You're staying _here_ for Christmas?" Draco asked loudly, storming over to her hotly.

"Yes." Andria answered blandly. Draco had tried many times to talk to her, try and apologise sincerely, but he never got as far as saying her name as he'd usually find his tongue glued to the top of his mouth, Andria smiling devilishly, flicking her light blonde hair over her shoulder and strutting away smugly and tucking her wand into her cloak. This had been the result of every encounter they had had ever since he let his big mouth run off with her biggest secret to the entire Common Room stacked of all the Slytherin's.

"Is it because of what I –"

"This isn't about _you_." Andria snarled, mouth twisting downwards unpleasantly. "For once, this isn't the Draco Show."

Draco took a patient breath. "You know mother would want to –"

"I don't care what she wants." Andria sniffed, looking at the dull, grey stone wall beside her, pretending she had found something interesting that only she could see. "She had no regards for what _I_ wanted. She endangered my life because of her own selfish reasons. Not once did I spring into her dangerously narrow mind."

Had this been anyone else calling his mother _dangerously narrow minded_ Draco would have snapped, pointing his wand at the culprit's throat, every harmful hex just tumbling out of his mouth. But this was not just anyone else, this was Andria. He remained quiet, shuffling his feet on the ground, too proud to look at them so instead opted at stare at his big sister, hoping that maybe she would crack under his intense gaze. It didn't work. "Please, Andria." He pleaded quietly. Andria didn't flicker. " _Please_ , come home."

"No." She said clearly.

"I'll go get Professor Snape and you can get your name crossed off the –"

"I said _no_ Draco!" Andria shrieked. The Common Room went silent once again, all eyes turning to the two siblings. "Stop bothering me. Go and pack or something, I don't care. Just get out of my sight." Draco hesitated, staying in place. "Leave!" Andria demanded, pointing aimlessly. With a shallow sigh, he turned around and walked off.

/ / /

Andria woke alone on Christmas morning, feeling a heavy weight being dropped at the bottom of her bed. Being unable to contain her curiosity, she sat up immediately, taking her wand from under her pillow quickly, gritting her teeth at the crunch of the letter that still remained between her pillow and pillow cover.

Andria sighed with relief, reaching forwards to pet Tabitha's head. "Hey, girl." She cooed. "I'm sorry I haven't been needing you lately. But I'm sure Draco's having fun reporting all of my misdoings, so he's probably been keeping you busy." Tabitha hooted lowly, as if she were agreeing. "Merry Christmas." Andria whispered, giving her co-owned owl a smile as she remembered about the significance of the day. It made her heart hurt a little, realising that this would be a day of firsts. The first Christmas knowing that her real mother wasn't there to celebrate with her (she had long since abandoned the thought of Rabastan Lestrange being a loving, doting father after realising that to be a Death Eater, you had to be rather emotionally constipated). It would be the First Christmas that she could remember without Narcissa, Lucius and Draco. It would be her first Christmas in Hogwarts. It would be her first Christmas alone. Tabitha chirped, nipping at the tip of Andria's index finger.

"Ouch." Andria muttered, immediately bringing her hand to her mouth and sucking on her pricked finger. "What the bloody –" Tabitha took up into the air, allowing Andria to focus on the floor completely covered with Christmas Presents. "If they're from Mother you can take them all back immediately." Andria huffed, eyes widening slightly. It was the first time since she got the letter that she hadn't called Narcissa by her first name. "I don't want her gifts." Tabitha lowered herself, swiping her feathered wings in front of Andria's face. "Hey!" Andria yelped, swatting her hand in protection. "That was cruel." Tabitha perched herself on Andria's covered legs, staring up at her. "Stop judging me." Tabitha continued to stare. "You don't know what it's like." Andria huffed. "You know perfectly well that within the Pureblood community you define yourself by the blood you share with people." Tabitha blinked slowly. "I don't have Malfoy blood, Tabitha. I have the blood of an Azkaban convict and a dead woman." Tabitha rubbed her head against Andria's arm. "So, please, just take them all back." Tabitha remained still for a few seconds before soaring up in the air, grabbing a large box by its twine, carrying it narrowly out of the window. One down, twenty seven left.

/ / /

"Merry Christmas." Andria greeted, approaching the single table in the middle of the room.

"Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore cheered enthusiastically. Andria couldn't help but smile, his enthusiasm was certainly contagious. "You're looking positively festive, Andria." Dumbledore smiled, tucking his hands together under his beard.

"Why thank you, sir." Andria smiled, giving him a little nod of her head. She didn't feel particularly festive, herself, but she had dressed specially for the occasion. It had to be the first time she had ever worn red as it was typically associated with Gryffindor, but it's Christmas! She should be _allowed_ to wear red! She had swapped out her usually dark purple or dark burgundy lipstick for a bright red, only two shades darker than her dress, but red all the same. "Where's Professor Lupin?" Andria asked before she could stop herself as she looked at all the teachers.

"Oh, he's ill, I'm afraid." Dumbledore said sadly. "Did you receive anything exciting this morning?" Dumbledore asked.

Andria forced herself to smile. "Lots of dresses. A few new cloaks. A new notebook. A couple of quills." She lied easily, hoping she would pass off as honest. "Did you get anything professor?" She asked, hoping to flip the attention off of herself as everyone stared.

"Some socks." Dumbledore said, only he didn't have the reaction she would have had, had she only gotten socks. Dumbledore looked absolutely delighted. "Sit down, sit down!" He encouraged her eagerly. Andria nodded, deciding to take a seat at the empty side of the table, across from Professor Snape. She could tell that it would be an eventful dinner, already.

"Have you made any plans on when you will be resuming your usual timetable, Miss Malfoy?" Snape asked, seeming to have practically spit out her last name.

" _Severus_!" McGonagall gaped, eyes narrowing coldly.

"It's a mere curiosity." Snape said absently.

"I plan to do so when term resumes." Andria answered stiffly.

"Well, don't hurry yourself if you don't think you're ready." McGonagall soothed. "You're not even in lessons and you're still top of Transfiguration. Your last homework piece was –"

"Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore greeted Harry, Ron and Hermione cheerfully as they approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the house tables." Dumbledore informed the three curious third years. Andria gave Harry a pleasant smile, which he returned with a hint of surprise. The trio sat down, Harry sitting himself next to Andria, Ron by Harry and finally, Hermione next to Ron. "Crackers!" Dumbledore called enthusiastically. He offered the end of a grand silver one to Professor Snape who grasped onto it reluctantly and gave a half-hearted pull. With a loud bang, the cracker burst apart and a large, pointed witch's hat decorated nicely with a large vulture fell out onto the table. Snape pushed it towards the Headmaster who immediately swapped out his own wizard's hat for the cracker hat at once. "Tuck in!" Dumbledore said brightly, waving his arms and mounts of magnificent food appeared on the table. Andria took a small helping of everything on the table, and even then her plate was almost overflowing. Oh, if only Narcissa Malfoy could see her now.

As Andria put one Brussel sprout on her plate, the doors of the Great Hall opened and in floated Professor Trelawney. She wore a green sequined dress which surprised Andria greatly as she could definitely remember her dislike of the time Andria and Meredith, under the latter's influence, of course, had turned every inch of Millie Wicks' skin green during their first Divination lesson last year. While it only took Andria a few measly seconds to convince Professor Snape that it had nothing to do with her Muggle-born descent, it took Meredith three entire hours. Obviously Death Eater alliance got you places.

"Sybil, this is a pleasant surprise!" Dumbledore said, getting to his feet.

"I have been crystal-grazing, Headmaster." Trelawney said mistily. Andria was reminded why she didn't feel the need to ever encounter Trelawney again. "And to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness…"Andria rolled her eyes.

"Certainly, certainly." Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling pleasantly. "Let me draw you up a chair." And Dumbledore did so with the flick of his wand.

"If she wanted some time-out from her crazy palace to get some good food and _normal_ company, she surely didn't need to make an excuse about it." Andria muttered to herself, stabbing her fork lightly into her turkey.

"What was that, dear?" Trelawney asked, looking at Andria with a small smile, although her eyes just screamed dislike.

"I said the turkey is moist." Andria lied with a smile. "Pleasantly, so." Dumbledore placed the spare chair between Snape and McGonagall, Trelawney, however, stood rooted to the ground. Her enlarged eyes scanned the table before she let out of quiet scream. Andria jumped nonetheless, taken by complete surprise at Trelawney's outburst.

"I dare not, Headmaster!" She shrieked. "If I join the table, we shall be thirteen! Nothing could be more unlucky!" Andria heavily doubted that, try getting a letter by owl saying that Sirius Black was obsessed with your biological mother and was, in turn, obsessed with you. Now that's unlucky. "Never forget that when thirteen dine together, the first to rise will be the first to die!"

"We'll risk it, Sybill." McGonagall said impatiently. "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold." This wasn't true of course, because as Andria dropped a small chunk into her mouth, it still had the ability to scold her tongue. Trelawney hesitated before sitting down slowly, eyes shut tightly and mouth clenched together, like she was expecting immediate death. "Tripe, Sybill?" McGonagall asked.

Trelawney ignored her and looked around the table once more. "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again." Dumbledore said sadly, waving his hand over the food, indicating everybody to begin serving themselves once again. "Most unfortunate that it should happen on Christmas Day."

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" McGonagall asked critically, eyebrows raised. Andria's eyes widened and she concealed her smile by sipping on her pumpkin juice.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva." Trelawney said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing. I frequently act as thought I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal." McGonagall said tartly. Andria smiled down at her plate, dipping her fork in and out of her mashed potatoes.

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long." Trelawney said furiously in attempt to redeem her seer status. Andria rolled her eyes, knowing that while he was a little shabby, Lupin was an excellent teacher and would no doubt be the first DADA Professor in a long while to last over a year. "He seems aware, himself, that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal-gaze for him –"

"Imagine that." McGonagall said drily, a slight irritated narrow to her eyes.

"I doubt," Dumbledore said in his same cheery tone, only it was louder and a little hint of assertiveness was detected which automatically put a stop to the two teachers quarrelling, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger. Severus, you've made that Potion for him again?"

"Yes, Headmaster." Snape answered.

"Good." Dumbledore said with a slight nod. "Then he should be up and about in no time… Derek, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The first year Hufflepuff went wonderfully red under the attention of the Headmaster, so red, in fact, that he rivalled the colour of Andria's dress and lips. He took the platter with quivering hands, giving himself a small helping.

"I don't think Professor Lupin will be leaving us." Andria said, chipping in her thoughts. "He's brilliant. There's no reason for him to leave unless he wants to, and he really likes it here."

"Do you question the prophecy of my inner eye, my dear?" Trelawney asked, her mystical tone back but there was a hint of aggressiveness and dislike towards Andria, which was unsurprising. She hadn't been the most mature third year, especially in Trelawney's class, constantly trying to test how far she could push the Professor. She was in detention pretty much every day.

"Yes." Andria said blandly with a smile. Trelawney glared uncharacteristically as Andria picked up a cracker, presenting it to Harry. "Cracker, Harry?" She asked, making her smile more friendlier. How else to rebel against dear old mother and father than to befriend the boy who single handily pushed the Dark Lord into hiding when he was just an infant? Harry looked slightly weary, taking the other end of the cracker and giving it a hearty tug. It exploded loudly and the hat, similar to Dumbledore's but a nice shade a scarlet red, landed on Harry's lap. "I've always been terrible at crackers." Andria said offhandedly, placing the small end that she had ended up with down on the table.

"Uh, you can have this." Harry said, almost shyly. "It matches your dress." He added as an awkward after thought. Andria smiled, taking the hat from him and placing it carefully over her tightly curled blonde hair.

As dessert came out, Andria found herself oddly missing sitting at the under crowded, far-to-large-for-a-family-of-four dining table. While Christmas at Hogwarts was truly wonderful and beautiful, she missed the traditions. She had always been a sucker for those. Watching the snow fall from the roof but disappear before it could dampen any of their heads, listening to the two hour long radio show with nothing but cheesy Christmas songs on repeat between the irritating commentators who were always a joy to poke fun at, Narcissa always insisting that she get a before and after photo of Andria and Draco when present opening time came around so she could really capture that her gift giving skills were as excellent as she had thought, watching the white peacocks chase each other through the snow, placing bets on the said peacocks. Andria found herself missing home for the first time since early November.

"Malfoy." Trelawney mused as Dumbledore chatted with the house-elf's who had come to wish him a merry Christmas. "I have a boy in my third year class with that name." She brought her spoon to her mouth, licking away the ice cream. Andria narrowed her eyes slightly, wondering where Trelawney was taking this. "Draco, I think his name is." Andria could recall this tone of her voice from when she sat in detentions with her. Trelawney has a wicked tongue when she thought it necessary. Apparently it was always necessary when Andria was present. "Any relation?" She asked, blinking innocently at Andria, who immediately knew that this was a form of revenge for earlier when she had taken it upon herself to 'question the prophecy of the inner eye'.

" _Sybill_." McGonagall seethed, looking outraged.

Andria balled her hands together under the table, gritting her teeth together extra hard, adamant not to say anything that would get her into trouble. They're picking prefects soon, Andria reminded herself, you're being scrutinised by Dumbledore and Snape right now for the position. Andria decided that staying quiet would be the best option, remembering what Lupin had told her.

" _Dumbledore told all of the faculty the day you got your letter. We're all in the know and if you ever need anyone to talk to, you know where my office is."_

Trelawney knew and she was revelling in it. Dumbledore turned his attention back to the table and smiled. "When I was younger on Christmas we used to get a handful of sweets after dinner. A handful of Liquorish snaps were always my favourite." Andria mustered up a smile. "Harry, what do you usually do on Christmas?"

"Not much, sir." Harry admitted, almost bashfully.

"Mr Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, looking genuinely interested. Ron told the table about his usual Christmas festivities, not into much detail, just enough for everyone to get the gist. "Miss Granger?"

"Usually mum and dad make me wait until after dinner for presents, because most of the family are around by then and we don't have to send off much thank you cards." Hermione said with a small smile, her tone bursting at the seams with fondness. "We set of fireworks at night before bed, too, just the three of us."

"Sounds delightful." Dumbledore smiled. Hermione smiled back, ducking her head down to her pudding. "Andria?" Dumbledore smiled, a look that was rather encouraging.

"Um," Andria muttered, placing down her spoon carefully, "my mother waits until Christmas morning to put the star on the top of the tree, I don't know why, she's done it since I can remember. She's a firm believer of recording memories so we have many photo albums of Christmas day alone, it's a bit much, but I'll probably be grateful when I'm older." Andria stared at her goblet. "They usually give us a small cup of fizzy tonic water mixed with firewhiskey, but we never finish it. It tastes dreadful." Andria gave the smallest of smiles. "I think my father is trying to build my brothers tolerance for the stronger drinks by giving us a morsel once a year. Erm, for hours before bed we sit outside in the middle of the ma – the middle of the garden with a large bonfire and sit around it, roasting chestnuts and just talking." Against her will, Andria could feel her eyes dampen ever so slightly. "That's, uh, that's my Christmas."

Dumbledore gave Andria a sympathetic smile, but she didn't pay much attention to it, not lifting her eyes from her half empty goblet of pumpkin juice. His eyes flicked briefly over to Professor Snape, giving him a small tilt of his head.

"Derek?" The first year Hufflepuff boy blushed scarlet under Dumbledore's attention for the second time that day.

/ / /

Andria sat at the small desk in the Slytherin Common Room, usually students would be fighting to have the small amount of space to complete their homework on a hard surface where their back wasn't hunched over, but being alone Andria had all of the benefits and none of the quarrelling. Her hands were clammy as she gripped onto her quill, ink dripping off the end, creating a small pool on the wood of the desk. Tabitha sat perched at the corner, blinking sleepily after having spent the majority of her Christmas going from Hogwarts to Wiltshire at least ten times to return all of Andria's seemingly unwanted presents.

"Come on, Andria." She muttered to herself, tapping her foot against the floor. "Just a simple card." She brushed her free hand through her hair, swiping it out of her face.

 _Mothe_

No. Andria replaced her quill for her wand and spelled the ink away.

 _Narcissa and Lu_

Definitely not. Andria replaced her quill for her wand and spelled the ink away.

 _Residents of Malfoy Manor_

Far too formal. Andria replaced her quill for her wand and spelled the ink away.

 _Merry Christmas. Andria x_

It'll do. Andria placed her quill down on the table and folded over the small piece of parchment, using her wand to seal it together. "Up for another trip to Wiltshire?" Andria asked quietly. Tabitha looked at her uncertainly and Andria got the feeling that her owl was asking if she was sure about it all. "I'm sure about it now, and that's what counts. Please, take it before I change my mind." Tabitha gave a small blink and ruffled her feathers, grabbing Andria's short letter and vanishing up the dormitory stairs to exit through the dorm window.


	14. Chapter 14

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Magic by Coldplay  
\- Beggin For Thread by Banks**

Andria rose at six the day term started back up, feeling good about getting back into classes. She could hear the shower running in the bathroom and could see Meredith sleeping peacefully in her bed, which she would do for another hour, not worried about looking the part of a pureblood woman, the fact that her family blood didn't run through any wizarding veins within the United Kingdom was getting to her head and had been since round about this time in their first year when she wore trousers for the first time since she was nine.

Andria sat at the small dressing table, dabbing concealer under her eyes, waiting for her wand to heat so she could curl her hair. The shower was no longer running, but she could hear Elizabeth humming in the bathroom as she most likely towel dried her hair. Andria ignored the pang in her heart as she remained silent when usually, Sirius Black be gone, she would sing the lyrics to Elizabeth's terrible humming, annoying a snoozing Meredith to no end. But it's not like that anymore. They've chosen to take the childish route and care about themselves rather than check if Andria was okay after having her world ripped out by the roots.

Andria remained sat at the dressing table, brushing mascara onto her long lashes when Elizabeth emerged from the bathroom. "Oh." She gasped, looking at Andria with wide eyes.

"Morning." Andria muttered.

"You're going to school?" Elizabeth asked, not even bothering to hide the surprise from her voice.

"Yes." Andria answered curtly. "You'd know that if you'd bother to talk to me."

Elizabeth gave a little 'hmmph', summoned her makeup bag and walked back into the bathroom, slamming the door loudly. Andria rolled her eyes, trying not to let the fact that her best friend of eleven years would so easily discard of her roll right off her back.

/ / /

Charms was already a disaster and Andria had been in there all of five minutes. It seemed like all of the Slytherin's, no matter their differences with each other, were practically glued together, making sure that there wasn't a space for Andria to seat herself at. She had to sit next to a Gryffindor. She was a Pureblood, so the backlash of her fellow house mates wouldn't be so bad, but she was a blood traitor. Ooh, and a Gryffindor. Luckily enough, Katie Bell looked as awkward as Andria.

"Welcome back." Flitwick squeaked, his eyes lingering on Andria for a few moment before flicking around the class. "I hope you all had a good Holiday. Today, we will be working on our calming charms. Now, before the holidays we worked on doing it to ourselves but sometimes, it just doesn't work out that way. Sometimes, there are other people in our lives who need the effects of the calming charm." Andria closed her eyes momentarily, knowing what was to come. "Today, we will be working in pairs." Andria opened her eyes, her thoughts confirmed. "To save the time, we will be working with our shoulder partner." Even better, Andria thought dully. She tried not to take offence when Katie looked frantically around the classroom for a spare seat next to any Gryffindor. There was none and she was stranded. "You all know what to do. I'll be around if you need help."

"I'm a little scared." Katie admitted when the rest of the class began to do their work, finding it a little harder than they first anticipated. Andria rolled her eyes, wondering if this was going to be an _I'm scared because you're marked by Sirius Black_ talk. "You were off for ages with no reason and you haven't been here for this." Andria's eyebrows knitted together with confusion.

"Do you know who I am?" She asked.

"Uh, you're Andria Malfoy?" Katie answered, looking less than pleased.

"You think I'm a Malfoy? Like, through blood?"

"What else would you be related to them through?" Katie asked drily, thinking that, for sure, Andria was pulling her leg.

"Nothing." Andria said quickly before Katie could make an educated guess. Katie didn't know? She was sure that by the morning after Draco had blurted it out in front of the entire common room that the entire school would be in the know. "And I've mastered the spell." Andria felt the need to inform. "In my absence I have been keeping up with school work."

"Still doesn't make me feel any better." Katie shrugged, true to her Gryffindor attributes. "This is the perfect chance for you to hex me."

"In front of an entire class and teacher?" Andria asked. "Don't be foolish. I'm smarter than that. Don't confuse me with the Slytherin likes of Hector Wilson."

"Why, because he's a half blood?" Katie demanded rather angrily, jumping to conclusions.

"No." Andria shrugged. "Because that boy is as thick as the earths crust." Katie looked around Andria's shoulder at Hector Wilson, catching the smoked out look on his face. The boy had managed to almost blast Jamie Fawley out of the classroom, it was lucky that Flitwick stepped in when he did.

" _That_ means nothing." Katie sniffed, although she did look relieved in the slightest. Andria hoped that it was because she wasn't paired with Hector. Andria would feel the same, too.

"I'll go first." Andria volunteered. The look of sheer panic on Katie's face made Andria smile a little with amusement. "Your facial expressions right now is why I'm going first. I'm not having you accidentally give me a bat-bogey hex because you're nervous."

"I'd be much calmer if I could go first." Katie objected. "Then you can see how to do it."

Mockingly, Andria nodded. "Yeah, that's actually a good idea." Katia gave a small sigh of relief. "Because then I'll be so calm that I really wouldn't remember what to do and I may slip up." Andria looked behind her back at Hector and Jaime. "I think Jaime went first. Hector went second. We both know how _that_ turned out."

Against her better judgement, Katie reluctantly nodded, dropping her arms to her sides, still clutching her wand, just in case Andria would dare to try anything. "Are you ready?" Andria asked, holding her wand higher.

"Just remember that its pronounced calm- _ear_ -no, not calmer-no like some people think." Katie said quickly, closing her eyes nervously.

"Do you seriously think I'm that stupid, Katie?" Andria grinned. " _Calmerno_." She whispered, drawing a half circle in the air with her hand and flicking it at Katie.

"Well done!" Flitwick squeaked as Katie visibly relaxed. "Really, that was wonderful!"

"Thank you Professor, Katie really had nothing to worry about at all." Andria looked at Katie out the corner of her eye. She looked surprisingly shocked, but not too shocked because the charm was actually working. Just the right amount of shocked so she wasn't alarmed by it. Flitwick, a true charmer and no doubt lady magnet with his compliments that he keeps dishing out, gave Andria one last praise and walked off to give another compliment to a Gryffindor.

"I guess I underestimated you." Katie admitted with a bashful smile. "It's just that –"

"Don't sweat it." Andria said quickly, giving Katie a hopeful smile. "And Hector went first, by the way. I only said he went second to –"

"Get me agree to your going first?" Katie guessed, eyebrows perched high. "I knew. I own a pair of eyes, you know."

"Yet you agreed to let me go first."

Katie shrugged. "Chivalry is a trait found in Gryffindor's. Much like cunning is a Slytherin's."

"So you were being chivalrous?" Andria scoffed. "That's for damsels in distress. While I may be a damsel, I am certainly not in distress."

"Fraternity is another trait for the Slytherin's. You guys value the meaning of friendship and stick together. They left you to be paired with someone from your rival house without so much as a bat of their eyes. Something's going on, for some reason your house has turned their backs on you." Andria glowered as Katie's deduction was accurate. They did leave her to the Gryffindor. They fed her to the lions, quite literally, considering Gryffindor's mascot is a lion.

"I didn't see your friends try to help you, either." Andria retorted hotly.

Katie pointed her wand at Andria, flourished her wand while muttering " _Calmerno._ " Instantly, Andria felt a wave of calm wash over her. This was the most relaxed she had felt in weeks. "Fraternity isn't listed as one of the qualities of a Gryffindor." Katie replied, pulling out her stool and taking a seat.

Andria followed Katie's lead. "Chivalry is. You said, not two minutes ago."

"True." Katie shrugged. "I have no friends in this class, my friends are in the year above." She looked at the Gryffindor's around her. "I like these guys, don't get me wrong, but they're just not my group of friends."

"I don't have any friends in here, either." Andria said quietly, rather shocked by her sudden desire to spill her guts. "The only difference between me and you, Katie Bell, is that I have no friends in any other year. You're the first person who's had a proper conversation with me who _doesn't_ sit at the staff table."

Katie stayed quiet for a few moments, looking at Andria with sympathetic eyes. "I think this may be your calming charm effecting me weirdly," She said suddenly, bringing Andria back to earth, "but if you're willing to tarnish your pureblood status and slum it with the traitors, you're more than welcome to come join me."

"What about your other friends?" Andria asked, wondering to herself why she didn't decline immediately. Surely she'd rather have no friends than become friends with a blood traitor?

"You're not bad, Malfoy. For someone who was raised on fanatic pureblood views, you're actually pretty decent." Andria wasn't sure why, but that felt like a massive compliment.


	15. Chapter 15

**Songs I listened to while writing: - River Lea by Adele  
\- Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood  
\- Faded by Alan Walker**

Early Sunday morning just before the second week of the New Year's term at around one in the morning, Andria was awoken by a bright light being waved in front of her face. In attempt to regain her slumber, she nestled her face within her pillow, moaning quietly. "Miss Malfoy." A voice spit out.

"Go 'way." She mumbled, letting out a quiet yawn.

"This is not an issue that can be so easily discarded, Malfoy." The voice said harshly.

"What's goin' on?" Elizabeth asked groggily from the bed to Andria's right.

"Nothing that concerns you, Miss Greengrass." The voice said snottily. "Malfoy, you need to follow me."

"Professor Snape?" Elizabeth asked into the darkness, sounding a lot more alert than she had a few seconds prior. Thinking that Snape is in your room would do that to a girl.

"Go back to sleep, Miss Greengrass." The voice huffed, and now that Andria thought about it, it did resemble Snape's voice rather well. Deciding on to confirm if her suspicions were correct, Andria sat up, glaring at the bright light reflecting from, sure enough, Snape's wand.

"What are you here for?" Andria asked, rubbing her eyes, not bothering to mask the rudeness in her voice.

"You need to come with me immediately." Snape said, not bothering to provide an explanation on why he was in her dormitory, poking his lightened wand in her face. "What are you waiting for? Get up." Andria huffed, sliding her legs over her bed, and getting to her feet, which were quaking with exhaustion as Snape tutted impatiently. He didn't wait much longer, exiting her room swiftly, expecting her to follow. Grabbing her cloak quickly, she scurried after her Professor, following him out of the Dungeons and up to Gryffindor Tower silently, the only sound being their footsteps, Snape's shoed feet and Andria's bare feet slapping against the cold flooring of the Castle and the angry mutters of the disturbed portraits. Much to Andria's surprise, then entire Gryffindor student body was in their Common Room. "Why am I here?" Andria asked Snape quietly.

"Sirius Black gained access into the Castle." He answered.

"What?" Andria squeaked, her heart beginning to beat one thousand miles per hour. " _Again_?"

"Yes." Snape answered blandly. "You'll remain here while the Castle is searched." He swooped out of the Gryffindor Common Room without another word, leaving Andria alone, scared and in a room full of people who probably hate her. She ignored the people who stared at her, whispering things to each other and decided to stand in the empty corner of the room. She held her trembling hands together, gnawing on her lower lip as she thought of the possibilities had Sirius Black broke into _her_ Common Room.

She didn't let her thoughts travel far, that would be improper, of course. Also the fact that her eyes had landed upon Harry Potter who was sitting next to the youngest Weasley boy, Ron, and his bushy haired friend, Hermione. Out of every single Gryffindor Harry was probably the one she trusted most, mainly because he too did something embarrassing on the train when first term started. Sure, Katie Bell was a plausible option but Andria was trying her hardest to avoid her, coming to that conclusion when Katie's calming charm wore off. Mingling with a blood traitor, while being one of the most rebellious things she could get up to, wasn't worth the backlash she'd face from the tight knit Pureblood community. The wrath of Lucius Malfoy wasn't worth the hassle, she'd much rather stay friendless.

Andria weaved her way through the glowering Gryffindor's to stand in front of Harry Potter, giving him somewhat of a friendly smile. "I was wondering if I could speak with you." She said quietly, ignoring the eyes of the entirety of the Gryffindor Common Room, including the portraits. Harry didn't give a verbal answer, but he started the process of lifting himself off of the sofa and would have succeeded in such a mediocre task had his ginger friend not grabbed at his elbow.

" _Harry_ …" Ron whispered quietly, shaking his head, pointing his eyes forcefully to Andria.

"She won't try anything." Harry said confidently. "If she does she'll have every single wand in this room on her." Ron hesitated a few moments before allowing Harry to stand. Comforting, Andria thought. Despite being the one to propose the conversation, she followed Harry back into her quiet, deserted corner.

"I'm assuming you know." Harry whispered, having the decency to talk quietly when everyone was still trying their hardest to listen in. "That Black –"

"That Sirius Black is after me?" She asked before nodding. "Yeah, I know."

"I know about the…" Harry hesitated, trying to carefully put his words together. "Adoption thing." He said quietly.

"Me too." Andria said stupidly. Harry gave her a sympathetic smile. "I'm assuming someone, probably Hector bloody Wilson, told you, right? He's always been mad at me ever since I outed him in Lupin's –"

"Um, no. I overheard the teachers speaking." Harry corrected her. "Wilson doesn't speak to me. Not that I want him to, your shoe story is actually pretty off putting of a person."

"Ugh, I _know_ right? Who even does that?"

"Hector Wilson." Harry answered with a small, wry smile, despite the fact that Andria's question was rhetorical.

Andria let out a small, surprised laugh. "True." She mumbled, smile still sketched onto her face. "Anyway, I didn't want to talk to you about Wilson and his feet… _thing_ , I wanted to talk about Black." Harry's mile sobered up into a serious frown. "What happened? How did he get in here _again_? For the _second time_?"

"He had the passwords." Harry answered with an angry frown. "Neville Longbottom wrote them down on a piece of parchment. He lost them, Black found them somehow. Got into here with a knife and was standing over Ron's bed. Probably thought I was sleeping there."

"He's after you too?" Andria asked, eyes widening. Harry nodded silently. "Oh, thank Merlin." Andria breathed. At Harry's slightly miffed, more surprised look, Andria quickly went to correct herself. "I'm not happy that he wants to kill you!" Harry's looked neutralised. "I'm just – I'm just happy that I'm not the only person who has to be so – so _scared_ all the time. Nobody else gets it. Nobody understands."

"Ron and Hermione try to understand." Harry said after a quiet second. "They really do, but they don't get it. He's done terrible things. Terrible things that he probably wants to do to me. I'm only thirteen, I can't ward off a man who's went mental in Azkaban alone."

"I'll fight with you." Andria said firmly. "If you ever find yourself fighting Black, find a way to contact me. I'll fight with you."

"You don't' have to –" Harry excused quickly but was quickly cut off by Andria.

"I want to!" She assured quickly. "From now on, we're in this together, whether we like it or not. We're the only allies each other has."

"Okay." Harry agreed with slight hesitance. "We're in this together." He confirmed with a nod. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but quickly decided against it, opting to give Andria a tight smile.

/ / /

The following morning after the rest of the night with no sleep, Andria was still expected by Snape to attend all of her classes. It didn't bother her, really, as she was already planning on attending them all, especially after every second that she spent when her mind wasn't occupied it would become riddled with thoughts about Black.

"May I speak with you?" A quiet voice asked from behind Andria as he stirred her porridge around in its bowl. She looked up, eyes widening when she saw Elizabeth.

"So you think it's acceptable now?" Andria asked curtly. "Did you hear about Black's _second_ break in, only this time with a _knife_ and remembered that your best friend of many, _many_ years was in danger? Did you finally take your head out of your own arse and take a second to realise that I have actual problems, not just whims that will most likely be false?" Elizabeth turned a bashful red colour, confirming all that Andria had just said. "You know, had you came to me before yesterday I would have jumped at the chance to be associated with you again. But now? I don't think I want to be friends with someone who has no regards for other people's feeling. I know that it's a Slytherin trait, but it's one of the worst. He wants me _dead_ , Lizzy, I just found out that I'm adopted and my father is Rabastan _bloody_ Lestrange, the Death Eater notorious for his skilful use of the unforgivable curses. The Death Eater who partook in the insanity of the Longbottom's. I'm his _daughter_. And you thought that your fairy tale problems were worse?" Elizabeth looked to the ground, frowning deeply. "I don't care if Meredith left me, I've only know her since first year but I've known you since we were four years old. We learned to dance from your mother together. We learned to write together. To read together. We had to endure that horrifically awkward sex talk from our mothers together. We did everything together and you discarded that completely because _my_ life is endanger."

"I – I was scared." Elizabeth muttered pathetically, lower lip jutting out, trembling slightly as her eyes welled up.

"You – _You were scared_?" Andria asked almost breathlessly. "Poor you." She said sardonically, shaking her head with feign sadness. "Poor Elizabeth Cassiopeia Greengrass. How could I not understand? How could I neglect such an over privileged friend in her time of need? Of course, I should have forgotten about the fact that everything I have ever stood for now means nothing as the blood that I thought runs through my veins really _doesn't_ run through my veins and that a notorious mass murderer thinks that he's my rightful father and probably wants to kill me or worse kidnap me and raise me as his own _just_ to drop to my knees and kiss the ground you walk on because _my_ life is being threatened and that makes _you_ scared." Andria rolled her eyes heavily and got to her feet, scoffing loudly. "As if." Without another word, Andria stepped over the bench, barged past Elizabeth who stared at the now vacant spot, mouth hanging open.

/ / /

 **I would like to say a massive thank you to 21, LeeForShort, TheHungryRainbow for commenting for the first time! Also to Barby03 for commenting a further two times! You guys are so kind with your words of encouragement and loveliness and I love it so damn much.**

 **On with the questions! (I'll shorten all the reviews down to just the questions from now on, I think)**

 **21 (I'm going to give you a very special and grateful thank you for all you extra comments, it made my heart happy when you took the time out of your day just to go back and comment on some of my chapters, thank you so much!) : (1)** I wonder who the romance will be with? **(2)** Wonder if she and Harry will be friends?  
(1) **;-D I can't give away any secrets now, can I? But, I can confirm that as far as I have written up to but not published (I'm currently writing Chapter 21!) Andria** _ **has**_ **met her future love interest! Maybe they have already been introduced, maybe they haven't, I'm not going to give away too much, of course.** (2) **They'll talk more in the future, that's for sure. I have their relationship already planned out in mind, but I'm not going to give much away, as that would be too kind.**

 **Barby03:** Will she talk with Lupin about her mother?  
 **As far as I have written, I haven't planned it out. To me, Andria enjoys Lupin's company because he doesn't talk about the whole thing with her adoption and her real parent and she finds comfort in that, in the fact that he treats her the same as he did before and not like she's some weird creature that isn't to be touched because her mum and dad aren't** _ **really**_ **her mum and dad, but I think I'll have them skirt around the topic eventually.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Do I Wanna Know? by The Arctic Monkeys  
\- Eye of the Needle by Sia  
\- Run the World (Girls) by Beyoncé**

"Hey, Andria!" A loud voice called as Andria tried to peacefully make her way out of the Great Hall after dinner. She stopped in her tracks, turning to face Lewis Campbell, a Slytherin in her year.

"Hi." She said slowly, wondering why he would dare come out of the tight knit bond that all the Slytherin's had about not talking to her. Maybe it was crumbling, after all, Elizabeth had tried to talk. Did that really mean anything, though? Was it significant enough for the rest of Slytherin House to talk to her once more? It had happened almost a month ago, it was now February.

"How are you?" He asked pleasantly.

Andria scrunched her brows together. "I'm perfectly alright, thanks." She mumbled.

"That's good." Lewis smiled, a little awkwardly too. "Yeah, that's really good."

"Is there a point to this?" Andria asked bluntly, knowing that Narcissa would probably foam at the mouth had she known that she wasn't following the pureblood etiquette.

"Yeah." Lewis answered slowly. "Walk with me?" He asked, holding out his elbow. Andria could tell that he was running through his lessons on wooing. She had watched Draco at the age of six do the same thing with the other pureblood kids his age.

"Sure." Andria mumbled, ignoring his presented arm. Lewis flushed uncertainly, unsure of what to do next as he had just been denied. He started walking, quickly coming to the decision to carry on like he would have, had Andria looped her arm through his.

They walked in silence, Andria frowning when she realised the Lewis was taking her in the direction of their Common Room. "Everyone's at dinner." He said, noticing her distaste. "We'll be alone."

"Don't you need dinner?" She asked, looking at him sceptically. "I eat early. Saves people from having to basically sit on each other to stay away from me."

"I'm not staying away from you." Lewis said, feeling the need to point that out.

"True." Andria shrugged. "But it's now February. Everyone stopped associating with me in early November." Lewis kept his mouth shut, unsure how to reply. "Anyway, that doesn't answer my question. Don't you need dinner?"

"Are you worried about me, Malfoy?" Lewis asked with a smug smile, unable to stop himself from asking. His smug smile died away slowly as he noticed Andria physically recoiling from him.

"No." She answered. "I just find it suspicious that you've never spoken to me and now, suddenly you're choosing me over dinner."

"I'm here with good intentions." Lewis promised. "I swear."

"Your word?" Andria asked, side eyeing him heavily.

"I give you my word."

"I'll have you know, Campbell, that when someone gives me their word it means a great deal to me." Andria informed Lewis, clasping her hands together and resting them on her stomach as they walked down the marble stair case.

"As it should." Lewis replied, nodding his head slightly. "It means a lot to me too. I wouldn't go back on it."

"You better not." Andria said firmly. "Because if you do I'll have to make a fool of you, and that will end badly."

"I don't doubt it." Lewis grinned. The two resolved back into their silence, Andria muttering the password at the wall, the two of them stepping into the empty Common Room.

"Thanks for the walk, I guess." Andria mumbled, mulling over her lost time that she would never get back. With a small smile, Andria walked towards the stairs towards the girl's dormitory.

"Wait!" Lewis said quickly, grasping onto her elbow. Andria turned around, looking down at his hand, which was still touching her, dangerously. Slowly, he let go. "Sit with me. Please. We can talk."

"Fine." She muttered, walking over to the black patent leather sofa and sitting down. She tried to act reluctant, but truthfully, she was rather happy that she would be sharing a normal conversation with somebody her age. A student. Not someone who was probably out of Hogwarts and in a job by the time she was born.

Lewis trailed behind her, sitting at the edge of the same sofa, despite there being one across from her. "I find you fascinating." He said, deciding that that was a good starting line.

"That's because I am." Andria said with a sharp grin. She reached forwards, picking up a lonely book from the coffee table and glancing at the title. _A Collection of Above Three Hundred Receipts in Cookery, Physick, and Surgery._ "Have you done the potions homework?" She asked, quickly scanning through the introduction page.

"What?" Lewis asked, not expecting their conversation to turn to their education so quickly. "Um, no. I haven't."

"I have." Andria stated. "I've already finished. Handed it in, too."

"Bet Snape was pleased with that." Lewis snorted.

"He was." Andria replied, despite the fact that Lewis was mocking Snape's need for everything to be on time, no later date, no earlier dates. "Said well done, gave me ten House points and said I was his most favourite pupil ever and that had I not been only the mere age of fifteen and his student that he'd kiss me." Lewis' eyes widened. Andria let out a small laugh. "I'm just pulling your leg. He snarled, snatched it from my hands and told me that there's a deadline for a reason, Miss Malfoy. Probably would have told me to fuck off, too, had he been allowed."

"Pleasant as always, I see."

"Oh, yes." Andria simpered, placing down the potions book and lounging back, looking up at the ceiling. "Calming, isn't it?" She asked, closing her eyes, listening to the slight swishing of the lakes water outside.

"Yeah." Lewis agreed.

"I always miss that sound when I leave for the holidays." She said, reopening her eyes. "There's a fountain outside my room in the garden at home, but it doesn't sound the same. It just makes me want to pee."

"You have a fountain in your garden?" Lewis asked, tone chalked full of surprise.

"And a maze. We also have peacocks. Pure white, totally beautiful. I've always speculated that they represent the purity of the Malfoy blood line but my speculations have never been denied nor confirmed." Andria lifted her head and started to fiddle with the hem of her cloak. "My mother keeps an enchanted rose garden. Thousands of roses of all colours. Black, white, yellow, red, orange, blue. It's beautiful. She used to plant them on her own, did it as a pass time, especially when Draco started his first year here as she had nobody to coddle. But she's never been particularly nourishing with anyone outside her family. She kept forgetting to water them. Would get really upset when they died. I suggested that she charm them to that they feed themselves and she wouldn't have to worry anymore." Andria looked at Lewis. "They haven't died since."

"Your house sounds…" Lewis trailed off, unable to find the right word to do her abode justice.

"Large? Over privileged? Tacky?"

"I was going for something more like beautiful. But I guess you know the insides of your house more than I do." Lewis watched Andria asked she gave a half-hearted shrug. "You are too."

"I am what?" Andria asked, looking at Lewis with scrunched eyebrows and narrowed eyes.

"Beautiful." He answered without so much as a blush.

"I know you're trying to woo me." Andria said suddenly. "I want you to know that it isn't going to work. Kissing Goyle was a one off –"

"Technically two off." Lewis interrupted with a sly grin. "I remember him making a fool of himself in the Hall that one breakfast."

"Fine." She grunted. "It was a _two_ off."

"Let me take you to Hogsmeade this weekend, then. We can go to that little tea shop where everyone goes on dates. It'll be jam packed as its valentine's day, so you won't have to worry about being Black bait. And maybe, if it goes well, you'll give me a cheeky kiss."

"I'm not snogging you, Campbell." Andria said firmly. "And anyway, even if I wanted to, I'm not allowed out the castle when its dark and my Hogsmeade trips have been revoked in the midst of Black."

"Then come to the Quidditch final with me."

Andria blinked at Lewis wildly. "That's during Easter break."

"I'm willing to wait."

"Willing to wait until _May_? For a date with me?"

"Like I said before, I find you fascinating."

"I'm not part of an exhibit." Andria said hotly. "I'm not alive for the sole purpose for you to ogle at me. Find something else you like about me and then I'll consider it."

"You've got a wicked sense of humour and I think you're beautiful." Lewis retorted quickly. "If my maths is correct, which I'm pretty sure it is, that is _two_ things I like about you. One more than the required."

"Technically," Andria said as an unfamiliar owl swooped down from the boys Dormitory stairs, " _something else_ doesn't have a limitation nor a restriction. You could give me one thousand more reasons why you want to go on a date with me and I could still feel like it wasn't enough to meet my idea of _something else_." The owl dropped a letter on Andria's lap and didn't bother to wait around before zooming off. "Also, just because you find me physically attractive doesn't mean I'm going to swoon head over heels for you. I know I'm attractive. I don't need some boy to confirm that for me. It doesn't score you points, you're simply stating out the obvious. Find me a minimum of five things that you like about me that I may not see for myself, _then_ I'll consider it."

 _Miss Malfoy, you're presence is required in my classroom immediately._

 _Professor Snape._

"I must go now." Andria muttered, standing up, folding up the note in her hands.

"Before you do," Lewis said quickly before she could leave. "Does that mean we can hang out? So I can find out thing I like about you? Unless you want me to stalk you, rifle through your –"

"It's disturbing that for a humorous affect you went straight to a serious matter that should not be joked about like stalking and the invasion of someone's privacy." Andria interrupted. "But yes, we can _hang out_ , but any more of those awful jokes and I'm not seeing a future for your balls that I'll cut up, quarter and then feed to my peacocks." Andria smiled innocently at Lewis as he adjusted his seating position uncomfortably. "Goodbye, Campbell."


	17. Chapter 17

**Songs I listened to while writing: - UGH! by The 1975  
\- Gold by Kiiara  
\- It Will Come Back by Hozier**

The walk to Professor Snape's class was short and brisk and the whole way there Andria's mind ran wild on the possibilities on why she was summoned. Had Snape realised that he was being overly insensitive about calling her by her last name, in spite of her asking him not to? Did he somehow hear her joke with Lewis that he wanted to kiss her and wanted to punish her by making her polish all of the spare cauldrons? Had Black broken into the castle yet _again_? Andria sincerely hoped that the latter wasn't the reason.

"You wanted to see me, Professor?" Andria said out of formality, trying to hide her frown when she saw one of the Weasley's sitting under Snape's glare.

"Mr Weasley, here, is clinging desperately onto the hope that _sheer luck_ will get him through his Potion O. ." Snape glared harder at Weasley. "To further embarrass him," Snape started, "I have decided to get my most advanced fourth year student," Snape gave Andria a slight nod "to tutor him." Snape slammed a potion book next to Weasley. "How devastating it must be to have somebody in the year below striving and gaining more academic achievements than yourself." Snape turned to Andria. "Sort out a timetable that works for the both of you. A minimum of three tutoring sessions per business week. This time on Sunday's, too." With that, Snape swooped out of the class, cloak billowing behind him.

"I –"

"If this is the part where you say that you don't need me and that Snape is exaggerating, please, save it." Andria sniffed, walking over to Weasley and sitting by him.

"I was actually going to say that I'm George." The boy muttered with an eye roll. "But then, I guess you must know everything, don'tcha Malfoy?" George asked with a smug, teasing smile. It was similar to a leer, but Andria didn't think he had that in him.

"Call me Andria." She muttered bluntly. "I don't care much for formalities."

"It's not a formality. It's a _your dad had a fist fight with my dad last year and you stood by and did nothing_. It also could fall under the category of _your family look down on my family_. Not to be mistaken with –"

"Okay, okay." Andria said hastily. "I get it, my father has been less than kind to yours, but you need my help."

"So Snape says."

"So Snape, the Master of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, says." Andria summoned a piece of parchment with her wand and dipped the supplied quill into the ink pot. "I will be looking past our differences. Seeing as Snape has asked me and not some sixth year to help you, I'm assuming that he probably thinks you lack technique."

"Or he just wants to embarrass me. Seriously, Malfoy, weren't you listening to a word he said?" George asked, eyebrows high and his hands fidgeted over the table.

"If he truly wanted to embarrass you he would have picked on you during class just so you could display your lack of knowledge in front of all your peers. No, Snape, in his own way, wants you to get a good grade. More than likely for his own pride. Are Monday's, Tuesday's and Thursday good for you?" Andria asked, not giving him a chance to answer before she was scribbling down the days.

"I guess they are now." George mumbled, watching her exaggerated font take up most of the parchment piece. He followed the tip of his quill with his eyes, tracing it as it made large curls, undeniably beautiful, true, but exaggerated for a girl who was fifteen and the most she'd be writing was to home, owl order and homework.

"We'll go over actual potions on those days. You'll make them like you usually would and I'll give you pointers on how to do it properly. On Sunday's, we'll go over what I told you that previous week and I'll make you do what I critiqued you on then. For instance, if you fuck up on cutting, I'll give you pointers on the Wednesday, probably make you do it again and on the Sunday I'll make you cut up the same thing and see if you've got my method down. Understood?" Andria asked, propping up her quill in the ink pot. "Do you have any preferences on what potions we do?"

"I don't care much." George muttered, looking around the classroom like a new first year.

"Fine. I'll pick." Andria muttered, not sounding too bothered. "I'll take potions from all levels. Not just the ones you'll get at your O.W.L exam." George made an uncommitted hum of agreement.

 _MONDAY: Wideye Potion, Swelling Solution,  
TUESDAY: Herbicide Potion, Sleeping Draught  
THRUSDAY: Hiccoughing Solution, Girding Potion_

"Hold on a minute." George interrupted loudly, looking absolutely aghast. "Thursday's potions are beyond O.W.L level! What do you think I'm studying?"

"Like I said," Andria said patiently, "you'll be brewing potions from all levels. I was brewing the Hiccoughing Solution with my father when I was eight years old."

George's eyes narrowed slightly. "What would Lucius Malfoy want with _hiccoughing solution_?"

"It was for me." Andria shrugged. "Draco accidentally used magic to stick me against the wall when I wouldn't give him my rainbow feathered quill. He was helping me get my own back, teaching him not to get so unreasonably angry when things didn't go his way."

"Okay then." George said, unsure of how to reply. "Then what about the last one? Blimey, I don't even know how to pronounce _that_."

"Phonetically." Andria shrugged. "Like birding, but instead of a B, say a soft G."

"Girding." George said slowly.

Andria nodded. "Admittedly, I've never brewed this in my life. But I've watched it be done."

George's eyes narrowed once more. "What would Lucius –"

"Malfoy want with _Girding Potion_?" Andria finished off his sentence in a mocking tone. George glowered. "It was for Cornelius Fudge when he first became Minister for Magic. The potion increases your endurance, Fudge didn't have much of it, then. I thought it was a miracle that he even became Minister, but he did. He was in such a lousy position before, probably had a lot of votes from his department. And his name is pretty cool, _Fudge_. I'd vote for a guy with that name, I suppose."

"You're diplomacy is astounding."

"Admittedly so, yes." Andria nodded. "Obviously there's over two weeks until the exams, so we'll add on potions as we go, maybe redo some of them if you –"

"Fail tremendously?" George guessed with a blank look.

"I was going to say 'if you want to' but obviously you think you know what I'm going to say better than I do." Andria said with a sharp smile.

"Is that it?" George asked, dancing from foot to foot eagerly. "I have things I could be doing."

"That's all." Andria muttered, rolling up the parchment and handing it to her now student. "Take this with you all the time. I'll see you tomorrow, George. At six thirty."

"Catch you later, Malfoy!" George beckoned, grabbing the rolled up parchment and zooming out of the classroom at an immense pace. There was probably some mischief that needed to be caught up on.

"It's Andria!" She called after him pathetically. "Call me Andria." She muttered, sighing heavily.


	18. Chapter 18

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Adventure of a Lifetime by Coldplay  
\- In the Night by The Weeknd**

Surprisingly, George Weasley had managed to surpass his reputation for doing whatever he wanted, especially if it involved mischief, as he had managed to turn up to Snape's class before twenty past six, which was when Andria arrived, planning on getting there early to set up.

"Malfoy." He greeted, giving her a crooked smile that only seeped mischief. Andria narrowed her eyes, looking at his posture. His arms were folded over one another and he leaned casually against the desk, looking much more confident and less on edge than he had yesterday. He was staring right into her soul through her eyes, much different to yesterday when he could only look at her directly for about all of ten seconds.

Andria managed to give him a smile. "You must be Fred."

"How did you know?" The George impostor squawked.

"You just confirmed it. Fifty-fifty chance, you see." Andria shrugged, laying out the potion book to page 64. "Unless there's a triplet." She added, pressing down the crease of the pages with her palm, ensuring that it would stay open on the _Wideye Potion_ instructions. "Then, in that case, it would be thirty three point three three three three and so on chance of it being you." She bundled up her curled to perfection hair and tied it up loosely. "Help me with the ingredients, won't you?"

"But I'm not George." Fred protested, appearing to think that that would get him out of his orders.

"I know." Andria said, walking over to the jars of ingredients that Snape had left out for them. "I deducted that in about… _twenty_ seconds of us being in the same room together." Andria carefully picked out six snake bites. "Measure out four standard ingredient, won't you? This is, after all, why you're here, isn't it?"

"I'm perfectly good at potions, thank you very much." Fred sniffed, obeying his orders anyhow. He picked up the spoon and measured a rough single measurement of the standard ingredient.

"Perfectly good, you say?" Andria muttered, grabbing onto his wrist and directing his measurement back to the pot, dumping it back in. "You're supposed to level it off."

"I'm not supposed to be doing anything, this was George's idea of a prank!" Fred groaned, dumping the spoon back into the pot. "Last time I ever take ideas from him, I'm telling you."

"Will you be able to get to George by half past?" Andria asked, taking over the very simplistic task of measuring four level measurements of standard ingredient.

"I reckon so, yeah."

"And bring him here?"

"Yeah."

"Then do so and you won't have to take his place for nothing." Andria shrugged. "You better hop to it. Times ticking." Fred didn't waste another moment, literally running out of the class. Andria smiled to herself, shaking her head, beginning on the second measurement.

By the time Andria had set out all of the ingredients that would be needed (6 snake fangs, 4 measures of Standard Ingredient, 6 dried Billywig stings and 2 sprigs of Wolfsbane) Fred had returned with a protesting George who was still strongly in favour of not needing any help.

"Evening." Andria greeted with a smile. "I've done the job of setting everything out for you. Today, as it should say on the table that I drew for you yesterday, we're doing the _Wideye Potion_. It's a simple potion, marked for beginners, so we should be just fine. Unfortunately for us, it has a standby time. Fourteen hours for us as we're using brass. I'd lend you my copper which has a standby time of eight hours, but I don't fancy getting up at two in the morning just to tutor you. Around eight to nine o'clock should suffice. I've already checked with Professor Snape, he said that he'd inform our respective teachers. Luckily, I have Binns." George started at her blankly. "I don't know what you're waiting for, Weasley, but if this is how you're aiming to pass your O. by staring, than I have some bad news for you."

"I'll miss out on Defence." He said slowly. "I like Defence."

"Well then, you better get cracking. The longer we wait the further into class time we'll go." With a long, heavy and drastic sigh, George stomped over to the work station and read over the instructions. "You're welcome to stay, Fred." Andria offered. "Just to observe, of course."

"And see my brother and partner in crime get put into his place by a small, raging, extremist fifteen year old girl?" Fred pretended to mull over his invitation. "How could I decline such an offer?"

Andria gave him a quick smile before frowning at George. "It's _medium heat_!"

"Bloody hell." George muttered, holding a hand over his chest. "I'm under pressure, woman! Give me a break!"

"You've got a funny way about asking for a break after you just degraded me. Refer to me by _woman_ again, George Weasley, and I'll be handing in my resignation form of being your tutor." Andria huffed, quickly nudging the heat onto medium. "Only keep it on for twenty as opposed to the recommended thirty."

"But the book –"

" _But you_ turned it onto high for a few seconds. That knocks it down by ten. Ten more seconds to go."

George rolled his eyes, tipping his head from side to side every second until it got to ten. Before Andria could yelp anymore, he turned off the heat. "Step five." He read quietly to himself. "Finely crush the ingredients in the mortar." He gave himself a nod of encouragement before picking up the pestle, gently crushing the ingredients within the mortar as instructed.

"Try rubbing it in circles." Andria advised, scribbling down _crushing ingredients in mortar_ on a piece of parchment headed _Sunday_. "As opposed to grinding it down."

"But Snape said –"

"Sometimes Snape is wrong." Andria said loftily. "Try it. It goes into finer pieces much faster. Same result, just using a short cut."

"Bet the grease ball will be happy to hear that." Fred snickered. "A favourite pupil after his own heart saying he's not always right. He's foaming at the mouth as we speak."

"See?" Andria said smugly as George had already managed to crush the ingredients finely, in about half the time it would have taken to do it Snape's way. "Keep going, you're doing really well."

"At beginners level." George muttered, measuring out the first of the four measures of the crushed ingredients and adding them to the cauldron.

"You'd be surprised how many beginner level potioneers fuck this up." Andria noted lightly.

"You've tutored before?" Fred asked, deciding that George's rant from the night before about how evil, cunning and unfairly hot she was was all lies and slander, he was over reacting (apart from maybe his last point, he was definitely correct there).

"Oh, no. Madam Pomfrey took a shining to me in my first year. Likewise, of course, she's lovely. She tells me all of the gossip when I see her." Andria made a mental note to visit the Hospital Wing to get the latest gossip from her favourite healer.

"I heard she was a Gryffindor." George noted, voice echoing from the inside of his cauldron. "Still like her, Malfoy?"

"It's Andria and yes. I still like her. Stop yapping and get on with it, Weasley."

"It's George." He mocked, adding his last measurement.

"Is he always this aggravating?" Andria asked, only giving Fred a tiny glance.

"Only when he's not asleep. But even then he snores."


	19. Chapter 19

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Hostage by Sia  
\- Open Hands by Ingrid Michaelson**

"Ooh, Andria, come, sit!" Lewis grinned, patting the empty seat beside him the next morning at breakfast. Andria fumbled a little at the judgemental look of the Slytherin fourth year boys gazing harshly upon her. She decided against declining, giving Lewis a kind smile, sitting by him. If she could do anything to piss off Hector Wilson, then it was something she'd be more than willing to do.

"You two a thing?" Austin Travers asked, waving a hand between Andria and Lewis, crumbs off of his slice of toast flying everywhere.

"No." Andria said quickly, blushing furiously.

"I'm hoping we could be." Lewis grinned, giving her a small nudge with his elbow. "But Andi, here, has standards. I respect that, of course. My mother raised a gentleman. She wants me to get to know her, list of a bunch of nice things about her before she agrees to see the Quidditch final with me during the Easter break."

"Will she be putting out, though?" Austin asked with a doubtful look on his face. "Never go for the pureblood girls if you're looking for a shag, mate. They're forced by their daddy's to wait until marriage. If you're wanting a quickie, go for a blood traitor. Or a half-blood. Hey, Wilson, your sisters up here, isn't she?" Austin asked with a roguish smile. Andria prayed sincerely for the poor girl that had to marry him.

"She's _second year_." Hector exclaimed, looking appalled. This was one thing Andria and Hector, the foot pervert, could agree on.

"So?" Austin asked. It was scarily shocking how serious he was, there wasn't a hint of teasing in his tone. "I've seen her around school. She's a developed girl, your sister. What's her name, again?"

"That's repulsive." Andria said, not even trying to hide her disgust at Austin's behaviour.

"You say something, Malfoy?" Austin asked with a heavy sneer. "You may have gotten off with the back chat back in October, but come November, your brothers revelations in the Common Room is sure to put you back in your place. Well, he's not even your _real_ brother, is he?" Austin smirked, placing down his slice of toast. "Are you even in the twenty-eight?"

"I am, actually." Andria spat. "You heard of Lestrange? Rabastan?" Austin visibly paled. She leaned over the table a little to get closer to him. "Say hello to my daddy, Travers."

"No way." Jaime scoffed. "You? Daughter of Lestrange? Isn't his sister-in-law meant to be your adoptive aunt?"

"Keeping me in the family, weren't they?" Andria shrugged, reaching over the table and snagging Austin's half eaten slice of toast. "So what does that make me, again? My adoptive father is a Malfoy, a very respected pureblood family, one of the cleanest, not a muggle-fucker in sight. Oh, and my biological father is Rabastan Lestrange. You know, the guy in Azkaban for being one of the Dark Lords most faithful, ruthless followers." Andria took a smug bite out of her stolen piece of toast. "You still want to put me back in my place?" Austin kept quiet. "Thought so." Next to her, Lewis let out a small laugh at his friends defeat. "I have to run." Andria informed, getting to her feet.

"You only just sat down!" Lewis complained. "If its Travers, I'm pretty sure you've just shut him up forever. No chance in Hell that he'd mess with someone who has both Lucius Malfoy _and_ Rabastan Lestrange as their fathers."

"I'm actually tutoring George Weasley for Potions at Snape's request, but I'll sit with you at Dinner, if that's okay?"

"Thought you eat early?" Lewis asked with a cheeky smile.

"I'll make exceptions." Andria smiled. "Bye, Austin." She beckoned, blowing Travers a small kiss. He grumbled bitterly. "Thanks for the toast, old pal." His grumbles got more sour as he turned down to look at his plate that held nothing but crumbs. "Catch you later." Andria smiled down at Lewis, making her way over to the Gryffindor table.

She grabbed onto George's shoulders. "Potion time." She whispered with a grin as he yelped.

"Bloody hell, Malfoy!" George gasped, clasping a hand over his chest dramatically. "That could have killed me!"

"You'll survive." Andria muttered, poking at his back. "C'mon, let's go. We have five minutes until step two needs to be carried out."

George sighed heavily, acting like this was corporal punishment rather than doing a simple three further steps, two of which include wand waving and stirring. "I was thinking that we could make the _Hiccoughing Solution_ tonight instead of tomorrow." Andria suggested. "I have some sort of new vendetta. Austin Travers. He's a crude bastard."

"I could have told you that yesterday, had you just asked." George muttered, sweeping back his growing hair. "We'll be out before first, right? I don't much fancy Snape looking over my shoulder."

"It's only going to take you at _least_ two minutes." Andria assured, tucking her hair behind her ear before quickly untucking it, snapping her hands together behind her back. "Sorry." She apologised. "It's a bad habit."

"What?" George asked, looking at her as if she were crazy. "What are you apologising for? Unless you're starting a dent in the list of many, _many_ things that you have done that are in need of heartfelt sorries, then –"

"I tucked my hair behind my ear, you idiot. I'm not apologizing for my past actions." Andria hesitated for a second. "Not _yet_ anyway. I'll get around to that when I get around to it." Andria might as well have been talking to herself, George was too busy snickering behind his hand. " _What_?" She asked sharply, frowning at him deeply.

"Why would you think I'd _care_ where your hair goes? Behind your ear, in front of you ear, wrapped around your finger, wrapped around your neck like a scarf – I don't care, Malfoy. Do what you wish with your locks."

"My mother says it's unforgiving of a respectable pureblood woman." Andria told him, shaking her head to move her hair from her face.

"You respectable pureblood women have weird views of what's unforgivable of yourselves while creeps like Travers can do what they wish without it hanging over their conscious." George muttered with a slight grimace.

"They don't get auctioned off to marry like women do. We need to keep our reputation pristine and intact." Andria said, feeling the need to explain herself.

"Oh, yes." George said, nodding his head almost sarcastically as they turned the corner into the dungeons, Snape's class coming into view. "I understand. I just _hate_ it when girls have their hair behind their ears. Puts me off of them forever, it does. Ears are meant for listening not for –"

"Shut up." Andria grumbled, jabbing her elbow lightly into his side. "It puts a permanent kink into your hair. Tints the perfect look you spend only your _entire_ life try to create."

George gave an exaggerated eye roll. "That's ridiculous."

"That's a part of my culture." Andria mumbled bitterly, shoving open the classroom door.

/ / /

 _Andria._

 _Your mother and I have respected your wishes of being left alone for long enough, now. I have elected to ignore the rumours of you and Gregory Goyle and I wish that you do to. Upon your mothers request you were not brought to any consequences and I have done my best and upmost hardest to ensure that all the eligible bachelors parents are ensured that this was just what it is. A rumour._

 _On the topic of eligible bachelors, I have attached the rough-cut of men willing to accept your hand. I am still waiting on some replies. Take a good look, Andria, your future husband_

Andria closed the letter roughly, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it at the fire. But, apparently Lucius Malfoy thought her to be too predictable asthe letter did nothing but bounce off of the flames, un-crumple and land in her lap. "You slick bastard." Andria muttered. She resolved to staring absently into the fireplace, listening to the chattering going on around her, trying not to succumb into the temptations of looking at her list of potential husbands.

After a strong thirty seconds, Andria failed her own personal mission, unfolding the attached piece of parchment and scanning quickly over the names.

 _Abbott, Donavan  
Abbott, James  
Campbell, Dennis  
Fawley, Jamie  
Flint, Gregor  
Gaunt, Daniel  
Greengrass, Matthew  
Nott, Theodore  
Parkinson, Noel  
Rowle, Michael  
Travers, Austin  
Travers, Lucifer  
Yaxley, David_

Andria grimaced, she couldn't imagine a worse list. Austin Travers? Austin _bloody_ Travers? Lucius Malfoy surely was a slick git.

"Hey." Andria jumped at Lewis' smooth voice, clutching the list to her chest, unable to mull over the mainly horrendous choice of future grooms. "I was on my way to dinner just now and I couldn't help but notice that you were still here." He said with a cheeky smirk. "Waiting for me?"

"I said that I'd dine with you, didn't I?" Andria asked with a small smile. "What are we waiting for? I'm positively parched."

"What have you got there?" Lewis asked curiously, peering at the letter in her hands. "It's not a love note, is it? Because if it is, tell me the name of the culprit and I'll just _have_ to fight –"

"It's just a note from my father. Let's go, shall we? I want to get to the chicken before it's all gone. You've seen the way Wilson eats, I'm surprised we don't study him in our Care of Magical Creatures class."

"I don't even take that class." Lewis said with a small, amused smile at Andria's babbling, the conversation topic successfully changed from her note of eligible and willing bachelors and onto Hector Wilson and class schedules. "I take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. Both of which you don't take."

"What can I say, Campbell?" Her mind wondered to the _Campbell, Dennis_ on her list and wondered if they were related. "I love animals and Trelawney's skirts."

Lewis and Andria made small chat on the way to the Great Hall, and much to Lewis' pleasure, she even accepted to loop arms with him. They sat like they did that breakfast, with Travers, Wilson and Fawley, the former staring at her with a smug, uncomfortable smirk. "Did your father tell you, Malfoy?" He asked, picking up a carrot stick and crunching on it. Andria rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

"Australia is by _far_ my favourite place to go. The heat is annoying, I'll give it that, but nothing a quick cooling –"

"Oi!" Travers said loudly, snapping his fingers in front of Andria's face. Her jaw locked and she stared at him with a glare. He didn't look fazed at all. "I asked you a question, Malfoy. Did your father tell you?"

"Tell her what?" Lewis asked, eyebrows creasing, head tilting slightly.

"He told me." Andria said bluntly. "Anyway, like I was saying. A quick cooling charm –"

"Her father sent a letter to my parents about her hand." Travers gave a bold smirk, nodding his head over to Fawley. "His mother got one –" His eyes zeroed in on the small piece of parchment that Andria was still holding. "That your list?"

"A rough cut, yes. There's still some replies in the waiting." She replied, hoping that that would be enough to satisfy Travers and keep him at bay. And she was right, Travers threw her a flirtatious wink, resuming his conversation with Fawley.

Unfortunately, this had peaked Lewis' interest and quickly, before Andria could hide the note, he grabbed it from her hands, opening it, letting his eyes roam over the names, stopping on the third one. "Campbell Dennis." He said slowly.

"Relation, by any chance?" She asked, trying to play it off cool, like she didn't care. That was such a lie.

"He's, uh, he's my older brother." Lewis said softly. "Andria, he's – Andria, Dennis is twenty four."

"And?" Andria asked, although her heart throbbed sadly at the thought of having to marry a man who was almost ten entire years older than her. "Gregor Flint is twelve." She shrugged, picking up the jug of pumpkin juice and pouring some into a goblet. "It's formality."

"Maybe your father meant to ask for me." Lewis said after a few seconds, nodding his head with vigour. "Yes, that must be it. People confuse me with Dennis all the time, write to your –"

"Lucius Malfoy doesn't make mistakes, Campbell." Andria reminded his shortly, taking a small swig of her juice. "Anyway, he probably would have written to your mother asking for the names of any of her sons who she would like to present for my hand in marriage. If anyone made a mistake, Campbell, it was your mother."

"Maybe she didn't know who you were, maybe –"

"You're tricking yourself, Campbell." Andria sang, couldn't help but feel slightly saddened by his reaction. "You know fine well that all of the… _applications_ come with a full profile of the auctioned. All my details would have been there – my date of birth, age, weight, height, eye colour, hair colour, a photo and _more_. My mother and I spent all of my summer making my profile up to my fathers expectations. Anyway, just because your brother is on the list doesn't mean I'll pick him. My father might not even approve of him – he's just living up to my wishes. I wanted to be informed of any changes every step of the way to ensure the best possible life for me once I'm married. I need to start thinking now what's the best for my children –"

"You're _fifteen_."

"Yes, and this time in four years I'll probably be bearing my first child. Don't pretend like you didn't know this was how our lives would be. We were raised to know this." Andria scooped some peas onto her plate, quickly disturbed when Lewis stood up abruptly.

"I'm going to owl my mother right now." He said firmly. Travers, Wilson and Fawley had stopped with their conversation about something Quidditch related and listened into the unfolding drama happening in front of their very eyes. "She's an old woman, my mother, maybe she's gotten mixed up. It's bound to happen, she has fifteen kids, over half boys, she probably got the names –"

"Campbell, sit _down_." Andria urged, gripping tightly onto his arm and forcing him to resit himself. "Like you said, your mother has a lot of sons. She's done this before." Lewis grumbled to himself bitterly, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, who says I'll even pick your brother? I'll be persuaded to make the choice that's best for alliances. If my father happens to think that marrying into a family who isn't part of the Twenty-Eight is a good alliance, then I may have to take up on the offer of your brother, but that's the only circumstance."

"When do you decide?" Lewis asked, trying not to sound too pleased that the thought of marrying Dennis had never crossed Andria's mind.

"I narrow my list down to about three this summer after my parents host a ball. I dance with each of the suitors and make my decision based on chemistry. And then the family politics start."

"Oh, so _that's_ when they start." Lewis grunted. "This is all unfair."

"Don't you think I don't know that?" Andria asked, stabbing angrily at her peas.


	20. Chapter 20

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Smoke & Mirrors by Agnes Obel  
\- Ride by Black Coast feat. M. Maggie**

"You and Mr Campbell seem to be getting… close." Lupin said, moustache barely moving over the rim of his mug of tea, a twinkle in his eyes that Andria hoped, for his sake and wellbeing, would never die out.

"Shouldn't teachers be keeping their noses out of student's private lives?" Andria fired back with no heat, cocking an eyebrow.

"We eat lunch together and I think I know you better than I know Professor McGonagall." Lupin took a small sip of his milky brew before setting his mug on top of the desk, leaning back slightly. "And I have it on good word that I was the only member of the faculty to receive a very nicely, delicately handmade Christmas card."

"Spent ages on that card." Andria said lightly, eyes narrowing with mock danger. "You didn't throw it out, did you?"

"It remains on top of my fireplace within my chambers." Lupin assured with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Wonderfully charmed, might I add. Professor Flitwick was particularly impressed with your good work. He won't stop boasting that it was with his teachings that you managed to create something so beautiful and pristine on a small piece of card."

"Perhaps I bought it from a shop." Andria shrugged, acting nonchalant as she picked up a plain vanilla biscuit, nibbling at the edges.

"I refuse to believe it." Lupin said without hesitation. "No shop in their right mind would sell a card that pelts snowballs at the open when the culprits name isn't signed at the bottom. Professor Flitwick took great glee on handing it to Professor Snape at the most unconventional of times. I suspect Professor McGonagall had a hand in this, it took the shape of something new with a lid or a seal each time."

Andria let out a small laugh. "And they got on at _me_ for acting childish in my third year!"

"Professor McGonagall told me that you took immense pleasure at transfiguring students into animals."

"My favourite was the goat." Andria reminisced with a smile. "McGonagall should have been proud! I was incredibly advanced for a third year. Anyway, Austin Travers makes a _gorgeous_ goat."

Lupin said nothing, just gave Andria a pained smile, she suspected it was to do with the large cuts around his face that strained whenever he showed any sign of emotion. "I think you've been trying to push me off topic." Lupin said accusingly with a teasing raise of his brows. "Are there any bells in the future for you and Mr Campbell?" He asked.

Andria gave her best smile, trying not to let it go sad. "Definitely not, sir."

/ / /

Although she would never admit it out loud, or, she probably would, it was ever so typical of her to blurt what she was thinking, Lewis Campbell was rather endearing. Annoyingly so, too. He was all smiles and jokes and insisted that she call him by his first name as they were "so obviously at that stage now, Andria, get with the times". That was her permanent destination, she'd reply. He'd stay silent, giving her a smile and nothing else.

She started calling him Lewis, after that.

George Weasley was progressing in potions, well, that could only be concluded as Weasley had reported that Snape was giving him less snarls and getting onto just grunts. Progress is progress. He had managed to successfully brew the Girding Potion both without gagging slash vomiting because of the smell and without Andria's help, which she was thankful for as she could stand at the other end of the classroom, critiquing his every move and not needing to get closer than need be.

Meredith and Elizabeth appeared to be warming up to her slightly. They had allowed Andria to join their group of three in Divination without a fuss. Again, progress is progress. Andria hoped it was a sort of chain reaction, if some of the other Slytherin's (mainly Lewis. Travers, Fawley and Wilson, too, but not as actively as Lewis) began to be friendly towards her, maybe the rest of them would follow shortly after. Wishful thinking, but not farfetched.

Andria was still actively ignoring Draco and had taken it upon herself to not want to walk in the same corridor as her. Maybe because he tried to hit her with a quick _levicorpus_ if there wasn't a teacher present just to get her in a position where she would be at his mercy and would have to talk to return to her usual, upright position, true to the Malfoy reputation, obviously. Luckily, he has rather appalling aim and, so far, Andria had managed to remain on the ground. The same can't be said for the innocent bystanders, like poor little Shawn Dickson, a first year in Hufflepuff, Rachel Robertson, a Gryffindor second year, and Eilidh Grant, a Slytherin fifth year.

Also, Sirius Black was still on the loose. Which is always fantastic. A raging, psychopathic mass murder who may just want to kill you or possibly hold you captive for the rest of your life is on the prowl and is doing a pretty damn good job of keeping hidden and managed, on two separate accounts, to break into a castle that is said to have the best methods of security and protection. That is apparently against everything in the world but the ones who can do damage, of course. As well as being rather scared for her life, Andria was also being followed by prefects and teachers at all times. They'd randomly decide to accompany her down to the greenhouses when she'd go to check up on her plants, or they'd think it was a good day to walk her to the dungeons after class, even though they were in Gryffindor and, as a result, sworn enemies.

"Slytherin Gryffindor final." Lewis grinned, dishing out a pancake onto his plate. He raised his eyebrows at Andria, tilting a pancake towards her plate slowly as an offering, which she declined. He piled it onto his own plate. "Now you _have_ to attend with me. It'll be wicked."

"Will it?" Andria asked, amusement lacing her tone as she raised her brows.

"Of course." Lewis scoffed, as though it was completely obvious. "I'll even let you wear my scarf, if you're lucky." He said with an exaggerated wink.

"Oh, you mean you'll let me wear you scarf that's exactly the same as the one I own?" She asked, mock shock, mouth dropped into a perfect circle. "How could I ever say no to _that_ offer?"

"Well, Malfoy, you're just a lucky, lucky girl."

"You two make me sick."

"Something to say, _Weasley_?" Lewis spat aggressively, his cheery exterior quickly crumbling into the exterior of a fascist Pureblood male in a rage. Andria despised the way he spat out George's surname like it was poison on his tongue.

"Calm it." Andria snapped, glowering at Campbell. She looked up to George with a small smile. "What can I do for you?"

"I can't make it to our study session." He said, not taking his narrowed eyes away from Lewis. "Wood's made a mad schedule making it impossible for us to fit in any time for homework. It's his last year, he wants us to win the cup."

"Don't understand why." Lewis sneered, the look on his face resembled the look of someone with permanent manure lodged up their nostrils. "Like you Gryffindor's are going to win. We have an amazing team –"

"Just because your seeker _bought_ his way onto the team with good brooms won't make you win." George glanced at Andria briefly. "Sorry, but you know it's true."

"I know." Andria agreed quietly.

"Harry Potter has the _Firebolt_. That'll beat your rank, boring, old Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-One's by _far_."

"Oh yeah? And what are you riding on, Weasley? An old charmed broom of your mother dearest?" Lewis taunted. Georges face burned bright red with fury and, possibly, embarrassment. He opened his mouth to retaliate but couldn't get a word in before Andria was on her feet, tutting him silent.

"Enough." She hissed. " _Both_ of you! You're both acting like immature children!" The two boys stayed silent, not mature enough to drop the glare battle going on between them. "George, get Wood to give me a timetable so we can try to work _something_ out. While, yes, you're improving, you're definitely not at the standards that Snape expects me to get you at. Even two sessions per week will be better than none."

"Alright." George agreed eventually. "I'll get it to you as soon as." He promised, backing away, reluctantly pulling his eyes from Lewis.

"I don't understand how you can stand to be around _filth_ like him and his family." Lewis sneered, cutting roughly into his pancake.

"I – I have to go." Andria excused herself, stepping over the bench. Lewis' mean, hard expression changed quickly to concerned and soft.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. "It wasn't that muggle fucker saying shit about your brother buying his way onto the team, was it? Because Draco's a good little –"

"It's not that. I just forgot I had homework due for next class that I haven't yet completed. Or started, really." Andria quickly excused. "I should really go and get that –"

"The Potions homework?" Lewis asked. "I've done it, I can help you –"

"It's actually Divination homework." She interrupted with a tight smile. "I'll catch you later." Andria exited the Great Hall quickly, couldn't help but feel a little queasy at the thought of such a nice, endearing person managing to turn into a loathing, hateful monster in the bat of an eye. Luckily, Lewis didn't suspect that she was lying through her teeth and remained at the Slytherin table with his pancakes.

The corridors were rather silent, and empty, unfortunately for Andria, because lately an empty corridor could only mean one of two things. Number one: It was, in fact empty. Number Two: She was about to get jinxed by someone she thought to be a brother.

" _Levicorpus_!"

" _Protego_!" Andria yelped quickly, just in time for the spell to bounce off her shield of protection. "What the _hell_!" She screeched, turning to look at Draco and the now suspended Goyle, hanging in the air by his ankle, presumably he had been hit by the rebounded spell.

" _Liberacorpus_!" Draco said quickly, flicking his wand upwards. Goyle fell to the ground with a large, heavy thud and in the midst of their squabbling, Andria made a clean get away, still remaining intact on the floor.


	21. Chapter 21

**Songs I listened to while writing: - Snakeskin by Deerhunter  
\- Never Be by Meg Mac**

It didn't take long for Lewis to realise that Andria, as skilful as she was, was avoiding him. It took him all of five hours, in fact. Not her best performance.

"Are you avoiding me?" Lewis had asked with a scowl and a deep crease on his forehead that could probably shelter a small family.

"What!" Andria had screeched, trying to play deeply, deeply offended. "I would _never_!" Lewis had then poked her with the end of his telescope, staring at her until she crumbled and vowed to stop with her foolishness. Andria was weak.

It was Hogsmeade weekend again, another Hogsmeade visit that Andria wouldn't be allowed to attend. Lewis had promised that he'd stay back in the castle with her, but she soon got fed up of his longing eyes before the large group of Hogsmeade visitors had even gathered to leave the castle. They had only finished breakfast, McGonagall hadn't even rallied them up and he was already looking like a kicked baby owl. Andria didn't think she could last an entire day with those sad, dark green eyes. Perhaps Lewis was the weak one.

Instead of taking up on Lupin's invitation to sit in his office, drink tea, eat sugary goods and talk about anything and nothing, Andria stayed in the Slytherin Common Room, ignoring the mounts of first and second years. She barely lifted a finger when a small first year boy, muggle-born, no doubt, considering the lashing he was getting, fled into the dungeons in tears. She listened half-heartedly to young Astoria Greengrass who still doted upon Andria like she had for all her life. It was admirable, really, that even after all of the revelations Astoria still found something worth admiring in Andria. It was rather comforting, really. She babbled about subject choices which she had just been presented with. She boasted about being the best in her charms class. Giggled while she reminisced the simpler times when Andria would transfigure Hector Wilson into farm yard animals whenever he glanced at a girl. Got slightly teary when she recalled upon her bad Snape experience – he had shouted in her face when she had jumped a step ahead and she was apparently traumatised. Andria really didn't blame her.

"Lizzy says you've been tutoring –"

"Uh-uh." Andria tutted loudly over the young girls words as she tucked her bark brown hair behind her ear. Andria leaned forwards, untucking Astoria's hair and giving her a long pointed look. Astoria rolled her eyes hotly and Andria felt a deep connection with her reaction.

"Anyway. Lizzy says that you've been tutoring one of the Weasley twins in Potions." She said, matter-of-factly.

"Maybe I have." Andria said, waggling her fingers in Astoria's face mysteriously. "Maybe I haven't."

"Lizzy thinks you're dead smart. He's studying in the year above and Snape thinks _you're worthy_."

"It's all of our trips to the broom cupboard finally paying off."

"What?" Astoria asked, tilting her head with confusion, wrinkling her nose.

"Nothing." Andria quickly dismissed. "Yes, I tutor George. Why's that peaked your little brains interest?"

"I think he's funny."

"Because he's a blood traitor?" Andria asked wryly, sick of listening to everyone chirp at her to quit with the sessions because of his family's reputation. If only they knew half of the thing the Malfoy's were up to. Oh wait, they knew. Half of their daddies were in league with the Dark Lord. They wouldn't care.

"What?" Astoria asked, mimicking her expression she had dawned on before when she was confused with Andria's broom cupboard joke. "I just think his pranks are funny." Andria blinked slowly, the pure and ripe innocence of Astoria Greengrass rather blinding and refreshing. "I do hope William is okay." She mumbled, looking longingly at the Common Room door. "I wish people would stop picking on him."

"Not very Pureblood of you, Ria." Andria commented lightly, giving her a smile to show her teasing.

Astoria shrugged boldly. "My beliefs shouldn't have anything to do with simple human kindness. We should be able to be superior _and_ civil. That's what I believe in."

Andria couldn't help but feel hopeful, rejuvenated. "You're right, chick pea." She said absently. "My God, you're absolutely right."

/ / /

Astoria's words didn't show any sign of leaving Andria's head that night when everyone had returned. The youngest Greengrass had long since left Andria sitting in the armchair by the fire on her own to start on some Charms homework but it was still ringing around Andria's head.

 _My beliefs shouldn't have anything to do with simple human kindness. We should be able to be superior_ and _civil_.

It saddened Andria slightly to know that what she believes in now would be washed away by the toxicity of the rest of her family's views. She could hope and pray for Astoria to stay that pure and open-minded but it would never come to life. After all, it had taken a large shock to Andria's system for her to begin to question her morals. And unfortunately for Astoria, she looked almost identical to her three older sisters, there was no chance in hell that Astoria wasn't really a Greengrass.

"I did bring you back one thing, though." Lewis said, lifting one half of his body up and rummaging through his pockets. Andria blinked slowly, coming back to their conversation and looking at him with her brows raised high.

"This isn't a courtship, is it?" She asked. "My father would be furious if he knew I was being courted by someone who isn't on my list."

"My brother is." Lewis said, pulling out a single, intact blood red rose. "I remember you spoke of your mothers rose garden with the multi-coloured roses." He held it out to Andria and all over her objections suddenly seemed irrelevant. "Unfortunately, the guy I bought this off of didn't have any other colours. Just red. Although, when I bought it, it was looking a little… malnourished. And it was more of a pink than a red." Lewis frowned to himself. "Thank Merlin for magic, huh? It looks like a new flower." He shifted uncomfortably as Andria took the rose by the stem, bringing it to her nose and inhaling, the smell of summer was almost overwhelming. "I also charmed it so that it'll never die. Thought that it would be pretty pointless if I gave you a flower that would only die in a few days. Possibly hours, I did by it off a guy in a back alley way."

"I love it." She muttered, beaming at him. "This is the nicest thing anyone has ever gotten for me." The charm bracelet on her wrist that she got for her fifteenth burned as a reminder of the other more thoughtful and expensive gifts that she had received, she chose to ignore it.

"Are you still opposed to my courtship?" He asked broadly with a slight smirk.

"Yes." Andria said blandly. "But I'd be lying if I were to say that I'm not more inclined to forget about my father right now and snog the hell out of you."

Lewis' eyes widened slightly at Andria's boldness. "Technically, Lucius Malfoy isn't _really_ your father." And just like that, all inclination Andria ever had just vanished if by magic. "And I think Lestrange is a little preoccupied right now."

She let out a slightly bitter laugh, about to retort angrily when an all too familiar shout took the words right out of Andria's being. " _Levicorpus_!" Andria didn't get the chance to retaliate before she was in the air by her ankles, trying hard not to let her dress fall and reveal her underwear. Not wearing tights was the largest mistake of her day, by far.

"What the _fuck_?" She screeched, already feeling the blood in her being rush to her head. "Let me _down_!"

"You've given me no other choice." Draco said, trying to act calm and collected when he was really rather pleased with himself for his aim being accurate. "You're refusing to speak to me."

"So hanging me in the air is definitely the way to go." Andria mocked, nodding her head the best she could. "You're ridiculous! Completely bonkers! We should lock you away in Mungo's and throw away the key!"

"Wouldn't be doing this if you just grew up and spoke to me." He said pointedly as if he were correct. He wasn't, naturally.

"Oh, because you're just a beacon of maturity, you are!" Andria could feel herself getting slightly lightheaded. "Put me down!"

"Talk to me, first." He had the audacity to try and bargain with her.

"Not until you put me down." Andria said stubbornly, most likely lying too, just to get out of her current predicament.

"Then I guess you'll be remaining there for quite some –"

"What do you want to talk about?" Andria asked quickly, now definitely willing to do anything to be the right way up.

"Dunno." Draco said, rather stupidly. "I honestly thought you would have hexed me by now."

"Can't." Andria huffed, sounding far too sad about that than she probably should be. "If I move my arms the entire Common Room will be able to see my knickers."

"Advantage on my part, then." Draco muttered, glaring at all of the students who were staring at them (read: every single person in the Common Room. All of them.). "So, uh, how have you been?"

"Dapper, thanks." Andria grunted. "Granted that my world has been turned upside down. Metaphorically and literally."

"How was your Christmas? Seeing as you didn't return home."

"Pleasantly quiet. Yours?"

"Mother cried quite a lot. More when she got your returned, unopened presents. Even more when she received your letter. Had to excuse herself when Father brought up the topic of your marriage."

"Not so different from last year, then."

"Oh, I'd say it was quite a bit different." The pair went into silence and that was probably the moment when the entire Common Room deemed the two of them to be clinically insane. They didn't say anything though, because they were Malfoy's (sort of) and they'd have them six feet under in three minutes flat. " _Liberacorpus_." Draco said, jerking his wand upwards. Andria crumpled to the ground, whining as she landed in an awkward position, feeling rather relieved that she could let go of her dress and her knickers wouldn't be on display to the majority of the Slytherin student body. She hoisted herself into a sitting position, turning to face the reason she was in pain only to be met with just the opposite sofa, the space around it deserted.

"He left." Lewis said. Andria had forgot that he had been there. "Saved your rose." He held it out.

"Uh, thanks." Andria muttered, taking it from him, staring at the empty space that still smelt like family.

/ / /

"Pretty rose." Elizabeth commented the next morning, picking it up and smelling it.

"Lewis Campbell gave it to me." Andria said, tugging a brush through her hair.

"Ah." Elizabeth nodded. "Thought you two were getting close."

"Not on my list." Andria grumbled.

"You got yours?" Elizabeth asked excitedly. "Let me see!" She squealed, throwing herself onto Andria's bed. Andria gave a small smile, feeling rather weird to be acting like they had never stopped talking without warning. She fingered around the edges of her bra, ignoring the strange looks she received from Elizabeth, humming happily once she located her piece of parchment. "I want it to be on me at all times. Just seems convenient, doesn't it? Started doing it after Draco started using me as a target to practice his levitating hexes. Doesn't fall out."

She handed it to Elizabeth who immediately began to read it over. She stopped reading, looking up at Andria with a quizzical raised eyebrow. "Dennis doesn't happen to be –"

"Lewis' big brother? Yep. He's twenty three or something. Definitely going to be scrapping him, for sure."

"Having romantic rendezvous with his younger brother. Scandalous." Elizabeth read over the rest of the names eagerly. "Hah." She snorted. "You might be Misses Austin Travers. Tough luck."

"Please." Andria groaned. "Don't remind me. I swear my father just sent letters to the worst boys within our Pureblood Community for me to wed." Andria took her parchment back, placed it in her bra and discarded of her hairbrush. "That wasn't even the final list. Father's still waiting for more replies."

"Bloody hell, there's tonnes of names there as it is! You're going to have one hell of a time narrowing it down to three. I'll be surprised if I get over five replies."

"You'll get over five easily." Andria dismissed. "You're beautiful and you're in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. All the boxes have been checked, as far as we're concerned." Andria reached over and grabbed at Elizabeth's hand, giving it a small squeeze, a nonverbal all is forgiven.

Elizabeth grinned, returning the squeeze. "Anyway, Misses Travers," Andria let out a loud groan, yanking her hand from Elizabeth with a grin "how have you been? Tell me everything I've missed."


	22. Chapter 22

The Easter Holiday's had already started and was about as much fun as yawning, which was exactly what it was, hah, fancy that. Meredith wasn't as keen as Elizabeth to be back in the grasps of the one and only Andria Malfoy, but did it reluctantly anyway, the thought of having no friends was probably quite daunting. Lewis was as charming as ever, probably trying to steal Andria's heart before the Quidditch final. Andria didn't have the guts to tell him that he sort of already did, but not in the way that he probably would have preferred. While Lewis was charming, sweet and everything that Andria could hope for in the boyfriend she would never get, she only got the urge to squeeze his cheeks and talk to him about _other_ boys. Like George Weasley, for instance.

Not in that way! Definitely not. Andria was just pleased that his potion skills were improving drastically, the words came from Snape himself! It made her feel worthy, like she can do something for herself. She even had the hilarious fantasy of becoming a Potion's teacher. Hah, a Pureblooded woman having a job! Hah, a Purblooded woman earning her own money! Hahahahaha! Hysterical.

Tabitha was a little traitor, she had decided to favour Draco instead of her. It was only because he fed her treats, but the dumb bird was too stupid to see that while they may taste nice on the way down, she'd definitely put on some weight and how would she work it off? An owl gym? They don't exist, don't be an idiot.

Speaking of Draco, himself and Andria hadn't spoken a word since he had her in the air by her ankles. She was okay with this, actually. Well, she was okay with this for now. She still had a lot of cooling down to do, a lot of self-worth locating. It was hard to try and accept yourself as somebody else when you had identified as someone for so long, and now they were nothing more than just a pigment of your own imagination. Sure, she may be exaggerating slightly, but with the Community she's a part of this was probably an under exaggeration. Hogwarts was the only place where she could exist outside of her Community, but when summer inevitably comes around she'll be forced back into it and forced to try and fit in with her new status as _the girl who is a Malfoy, but not completely, not at all, in fact, she's just kind of there, really._

It was the day of the Quidditch Final and Andria was sort of excited. Which was weird, considering Quidditch was never really something she could get into. But petty house rivalry? So into that. Lewis wouldn't stop giving her long glances during breakfast as she spoke with Elizabeth who had just, that morning, been giving her official long list of suitable suitors. It was considerably better than Andria's rough cut, but significantly shorter.

 _Travers, Austin  
Carrow, Grant  
Prewett, Daniel  
Selwyn, Jakob  
Campbell, Lewis_

The last name gave a particular impact to Andria, but she stayed quiet. "Travers' mother is fair sticking him out there, isn't she?" Andria commented, glancing to the boy on topic.

"Listen, Andi, about Lewis, if you like him, like _really_ like him, I'll score him off. That would be rude and inconsiderate of me to get with him like –"

"I don't like him." Andria said quickly. "Not like _that_ at least. He's a good friend, I just haven't found the way or the opportunity to tell him that. If you want him on your final list, you can have him."

"You just go up to him." Meredith said from her bowl of cereal. "And you say ' _I don't want to be near your penis, but I want to be near your heart_ '."

"Take everything she just said an ignore it." Elizabeth muttered, flicking a stray toast crust to Meredith with a sarcastic smile.

"In all seriousness, though, he likes you, Andria."

"Geez, _thanks_ Meredith. As if I didn't feel bad enough before –"

"You don't _understand_." Meredith cut in lazily. "He wants a slice of your arse, Andria. He wants you to sit on his meat stick. Slobber on his chubber. Flick his magic wand. Lick his –"

"You're actually disgusting." Elizabeth said sharply, wrinkling her nose as Meredith snickered.

"My point is, he wants to have sex with you." Meredith said with a simple shrug. Andria burned bright red and ducked her head down. "Last time I checked, you were _more_ than willing to piss of daddy dearest."

"The last time you checked was in early November." Andria said pointedly.

Meredith shrugged lazily. "Well, I'll check in now. Do you still want to piss of the family, Malfoy? The family who kept the secret of your _true_ identity under locks and broke it to you in a damn Howler? The brother who blurted it to the entire Common –"

"Yeah." Andria muttered, furiously stabbing at her slice of bacon. "I'm still mad. I still want to get a rise out of them."

"There are better ways –"

"You have the perfect means to do so, my sweet." Meredith cooed, talking over an opposed Elizabeth. "He wants to fuck you, so by all means, let him. He's a boy, he won't be able to resist bragging about the fact that he shagged a beautiful bird like yourself."

Andria blushed once again. "I – I don't want to lead him on, though."

"That's his fault for catching feelings. Don't fall for the Pureblood girl who can't love unless her daddy allows it. It's basic etiquette."

"No!" Elizabeth said loudly. She slammed her hands against the table passionately, causing a poor first year girl to jump out of her skin. "Mer, you _can't_ give her advice on this! This isn't just a way to piss off her mother and father, this is a way to make her ineligible for marriage. Something that we have been groomed for since we were seconds out the womb."

"You say that being ineligible to wed like it's a _bad_ thing." Meredith sneered. "How I see it is it's a way to freedom. You can marry whoever the hell you want after that."

"No. No _way_. You don't understand, do you? Being ineligible to marry is like being jilted at the altar. Nobody would be willing to marry her and she's become an unnecessary liability to not only Lucius and Narcissa, but _also_ Draco and his future wife."

"I'm not telling her to turn lesbian, Lizzy. And do you _truly_ believe that Lucius Malfoy of _all_ people would let a stupid little rumour that could easily be discarded ruin his only daughters chance at marriage?" That silenced Elizabeth.

"My father said in the last letter that he sent me that he had ensured that the kiss I had with Goyle was quickly dispelled as a rumour. Judging by the response that I have had with my list of bachelors he did a pretty good job at convincing people about it."

"Was that supposed to sway my opinion?" Elizabeth grunted.

"Oh, no. Just a simple fact. I know you'll never be on board with it."

"Start with the heavy petting." Meredith said matter-of-factly. "Then go in for the kill."

"It's supposed to hurt. Lizzy's mother accidentally let it slip during The Talk. We weren't supposed to know."

"You're making potions with one of the Weasley twins, right?" Meredith asked, completely off topic.

"Uh, yeah. I'm helping George with –"

"Get him to make those endurance potions and then use it." Meredith said with a wicked smile. "Your pain endurance will be higher and you won't be reduced to tears."

" _Tears_?" Andria asked, high pitched and slightly worried. "Well you can fuck off with your idea of me fucking _anybody_."

"You'll be too busy riding the chariot of sweet devotion and pleasure to even _care_ about –"

"Don't try to convince her otherwise." Elizabeth stepped in sharply. "Andria's made up her mind. She's made the _right_ decision."

"Right decision my arse!" Meredith objected and Andria began wondering how the entire table hadn't been listening into their conversation. It was truly a miracle. "She wants to get revenge on her father for lying to her. What better way that to fuck someone who's not even on the list?"

"If you feel morally obligated to proceed with this _foolish_ plan, Andria, then at least go with someone _on_ the list." Elizabeth said sternly. "Like maybe Travers. He's a prick but he seems to get girls hanging off his arms."

"That's because us girls like someone who we think will treat only us nicely and piss on everyone else. We all love a good villain." Meredith explained. "I don't think our dear, sweet Andria cares much for that. Lewis may as well be on her list, his brother is."

"Lucius would be fine with Andria _getting with_ anyone with a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Campbell, unfortunately, _doesn't_ fall under that category. The only reason why Dennis is probably even on her list is so that Lucius can claim that he was trying to expand the list into a possible Twenty-Nine. Not his fault if his daughter doesn't pick the name that has the means to do that, isn't it?"

"I think you should do it, Andi." Meredith said, completely ignoring everything that Elizabeth had went to the trouble on elaborating on. "Don't you want to experience the feeling of his pulsating, dripping wet cock in your nether regions?"

" _Pulsating_?" Andria repeated, face screwing up.

"That's what the books say, at least. Ever actually experienced it for myself. I think I'm too young."

"That word doesn't make it sound healthy." Andria said timidly.

"Then it's like chocolate, isn't it? Not healthy but isn't it divine?"

"Also my mother doesn't like it when I eat it."

"Slow down there, Andi." Meredith said with a grin. "Don't go _eating_ the poor boy's willy."

"Oh har har." Andria muttered, smiling down at her bacon.

"If you want to do it, go for it. I mean, you don't want to end up like Lizzy here, do you?" Meredith asked, leaning over the table slightly to get closer to Andria.

"Uh, hello! I'm right here!" Elizabeth said pointedly, waving her hands in front of Meredith's face.

"She's going to have the same willy for the rest of her life. No changing it up for her. Plus, she'll be going into the night of her marriage completely _blind_. Don't you want to be there for her and give her a run through on what she can expect? It'll also help you with what to expect, of course."

" _Stop encouraging her_!" Elizabeth squealed, face going red.

"Andria!" Speak of the Devil and he shall come. "Are you ready? I want to leave now so we can get the good spots."

"Yeah, coming!"

"You will be if you fuck him." Meredith cackled, seemingly proud of herself for her fantastic joke.

"Shut up." Andria mumbled with a smile, swinging her legs over the bench.

"Are you gonna do it?" Meredith asked excitedly, looking far too eager.

"I think so, yeah." Andria admitted with a slight blush, walking briskly to Lewis before Elizabeth could throttle both her and Meredith.

"You okay?" Lewis asked upon her arrival, removing the scarf from his neck, wrapping it around Andria's.

"Yeah. I'm perfect, thanks." She answered with a smile, her heart thumping rapidly with adrenaline.

/ / /

"AND HERE ARE THE GRYFFINDORS!" The commentator yelled enthusiastically. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley and Wood." One by one, the Gryffindor players flew out, Andria nodded slightly at Harry, unsure if he saw it, but oh well. What were allies for if not support? "Widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years –" His words were quickly drowned by the many disapproving shouts from the Slytherin side, including Andria herself, cupping her hands around her mouth and shouting a long, loud ' _boo_ '. "And here come the Slytherin team, led by captain Flint. He's made some changes to his line-up and seems to be going for size rather than skill –" Once again, the Slytherin stand booed over the Commentator's obviously biased views. While he may be biased, Andria couldn't help but think he was right as she cheered for her House team. Draco was undoubtedly the smallest, the rest of the players (all _male_ , much to Andria's distaste) were all bulky with muscles and all rather tall. If it wasn't obvious that Lucius had bought Draco's way into the team before, it definitely was now.

"Lee Jordan's _rubbish_." Lewis huffed. "It's obvious who he favours. Bloody prick."

"Handpicked by McGonagall." Andria said, watching as the captains, Wood and Flint, shook hands. "Obviously she used to be a Gryffindor, she'd obviously pick a Gryffindor commentator to commentate the final." The whistle blew loudly as the players soared up high. She smiled at Draco when she caught his eye, giving him a small nod of good luck. He soared in the opposite direction. Andria pretended not to hurt.

Almost immediately, the quaffle landed in Gryffindor's possession causing the Slytherin stand to boo, trying to encourage their team players to do _something_ but fly and look totally gormless.

"And it's in Gryffindor's possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good Alicia!" As quickly as she had gained possession, she lost it, Warrington grabbing it from her hands, tearing towards the Gryffindor goalposts. "WHAM! Nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina – nice swerve round Montague – _duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger!_ – SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

"This is a shit game!" Andria complained loudly, covering her face with her hands. Lewis said nothing, seething with anger but finding enough will power to grab at Andria's hand and hold it tightly, hobbling from foot to foot with anticipation. Andria returned the hand-holding, giving him a hopeful smile.

"We can take this back." Lewis said earnestly, as if he were promising Andria the world, only in the form of the Quidditch Cup. "We're gonna win. Your brother he's – he's a good seeker. We'll be _fine_." Andria decided not to voice her doubts. What? Potter has only the best broom in the wizarding world to date, the entire Slytherin team is on the best broom in the wizarding world to date almost _two years ago_. Broom technology has improved greatly since then, Harry Potter's masterful piece of art he's riding upon is the evidence.

Forty minutes later, the scores were, quite frankly, devastating. Eighty to twenty, Gryffindor in the _lead_. If Draco couldn't catch the snitch it would be a complete and utter loss. The entire game was riding upon his shoulders, and Andria knew his capabilities, she didn't think he would pull through. She allowed herself to feel momentarily bad for her presumptions, but that was all washed away when she reminded herself of the broom that Harry was riding. The Nimbus Two-Thousand-and-Ones had _nothing_ on the slick, beautifully crafted Firebolt. They may as well hand the cup over to Gryffindor right now, honestly.

Lewis had taken it upon himself, back at minute fifteen, to wrap an arm around Andria, squeezed uncomfortably tight whenever Gryffindor scored, pulled her close in an awkward embrace the two times Slytherin scored.

" _WHAT THE FUCK_?" Lewis Screeched, Andria jumped at his sudden outburst, looking out onto the field to see what had caused the massive ruckus on the Slytherin stand. Harry Potter stood on the field in all his glory, holding up the small golden ball.

Slytherin had lost, Gryffindor had won.


	23. Chapter 23

The sourness had stayed with the Slytherin's for well over a week, the Gryffindor's were revelling in their victorious win which had only served to make the entire Slytherin Hogwarts population bitter. Surprisingly, Draco didn't face any backlash and, instead, Flint did. People loathed the fact that he had picked brawn over skill and a day never went past that he didn't have enlarged ears, enlarged teeth, boils all over his skin, said boils _popping_ everywhere, his hair miraculously disappearing, his hair growing rapidly – long story short, he was getting hexed left, right and centre. It would be rather tragic if Andria didn't blame him. But because she did, and quite a lot, really, the entire thing was hysterically revolting.

(A boil had popped onto her homework as he was passing by to get to Madam Pomfrey, she was almost sick.)

Exam timetables were issued and Andria was the only one in her dormitory to feel completely at ease. Unlike Meredith and Elizabeth, Andria had actually been studying. Studying, giving George tutoring lessons and shamelessly snogging none other than Lewis Campbell. How did that happen, you may ask? Well, wouldn't you like to know.

Turns out, Andria isn't the girl that Lewis thought she was, not in a negative way, though, he just doesn't fancy her. When Andria let out a large sigh of relief, he was offended, but when she explained that she liked him only as a friend he became neutral once more and Andria could eventually walk away hex free. Before she could, she began laughing like a loony, wheezed out Meredith's proposed plans to him, stopped laughing when he started contemplating the idea.

"Wouldn't be so bad, would it?" He had mused. All he really needed at that moment in time was a pair of spectacles and a large beard that he could stroke. "I mean, not only would you be able to piss of your daddy dearest but you'd get to snog someone. Also beneficial to me, of course, while I may not fancy you, Malfoy, you are rather beautiful." That was enough for Andria agree. Elizabeth, predictably, was fuming but didn't open her mouth.

For the plan to go accordingly, Draco, unbeknown to him, played a large part. Andria had to count on his snitching skills, and not the type of snitch that's in Quidditch, he's obviously terrible at _that_ type of snitch, but the type where he can't help but tell everyone (mainly their parents if it is to work) Andria's business.

Luckily enough, he pulled through and the morning after Lewis and Andria's first public snog fest (really only lasted a few minutes, but that was enough), she had received a strongly worded letter from her father on why this was totally unacceptable and would potentially ruin her image.

Whatever, though, because Lewis was a good kiss and it always left Andria wondering why she couldn't _actually_ fancy him. Her entire being was obviously against her.

By the time Exam week had started, Meredith and Elizabeth weren't so talkative, opting to spend all their free time studying, begging for Andria to tutor them and getting tutored by the Pushover of their dormitory, also known as Andria Malfoy.

 _ **Monday  
**_ _9 o'clock, Transfiguration  
_ Lunch  
 _1 o'clock, Care of Magical Creatures_

 _ **Tuesday  
**_ _10 o'clock, Charms  
_ Lunch  
 _1 o'clock Potions_

 _ **Wednesday  
**_ _9 o'clock, Defence Against the Dark Arts  
_ Lunch  
 _1 o'clock, Herbology_  
Supper _  
Midnight, Astrology_

 _ **Thursday  
**_ _9 o'clock, Divination  
_ Lunch  
 _-_

 _ **Friday  
**_ _-  
_ Lunch  
 _1 o'clock, History of Magic  
_

"Well, at least that's Transfiguration done with." Andria said with a sigh of relief. "Bring on Magical Creatures!" She cried, throwing her arms in the air.

"I've only gone and failed, haven't I?" Elizabeth whined, wrapping her arms around Andria's waist. She returned the hug, not bothering to console her because yeah, Elizabeth probably did fail. Transfiguration had to be her worst subject and she knew it. So did Professor McGonagall.

Care of Magical Creatures was far too easy, they just had to look after some Flobberworms, make sure they didn't die in an hour and a half. Although they hadn't really spent much time looking after Flobberworms, all of the class knew that they dealt best and survived if you left them alone to do their own thing. So that's what they did, it really served as a study period as opposed to an exam, everyone sat in a loose circle, didn't matter what house you were from, their Flobberworms between their circled legs, quizzing each other on their next exam. It was beautifully harmonious.

"Looks on the verge o' death, he does." Hagrid said, examining Andria's Flobberworm closely.

"What?" Andria' asked sharply, looking at her Flobberworm and then the rest of the classes. If she wasn't mistaken, her Flobberworm looked identical to the person behind her, and the person behind _him_ and so on. Point is, her Flobberworm was identical to the rest of the Flobberworms (except Jonathon Reid's who's was completely dead because while standing up he accidentally stood on the poor thing).

"Look at 'im. No life in his eyes."

"You can barely _see his eyes_." Andria said, her frustration blindingly clear.

"Exactly my point, Malfoy." Hagrid placed her Flobberworm to the side. Andria huffed, stropping away, arms folded tightly over her chest as she sat by a rock, waiting for Meredith and Elizabeth to get their Flobberworms examined.

Charms was a breeze, Andria had already nailed all of the charms that they had went over during their class time. Flitwick was most impressed. Potions was equally as a breeze, Snape didn't look at her with a snarl which she concluded to be a good thing. It was probably her ultimate goal to see him smile.

"Good morning, Andria!" Professor Lupin said brightly, squinting in the sunlight.

"Morning, Professor." Andria greeted with a smile. "Made my exam easier than everyone else's?" She asked cheekily. Lupin didn't reply, just gave a short laugh. "How are you?" She asked, sitting on the grass, watching her class hobble over the hill.

"I'm fine." He answered acutely. Andria smiled and nodded, squinting down at the grass.

"There won't be any Boggarts, will there?" She asked, the pit of her stomach contracting, making her feel slightly queasy at the mere thought of having to face the unknown woman again.

"Not for your exam, no." Lupin answered. "That was just a filler lesson."

"Good." Andria muttered. "I didn't know who my Boggart was, but it still scared me, y'know? She looked ghastly." Lupin gave a half-hearted hum of agreement, his eyes glazing over ever so slightly. "What order are we going in?" Andria asked, picking the grass out of the dry soil. Lupin didn't say anything, didn't really appear to be looking at anything, either. "Professor?"

"Huh?" Lupin said dumbly, looking around rather suspiciously. "Oh, sorry. I just…" Lupin apologised, unable to finish his sentence before zoning out again. Andria snickered under her breath, picking up a fistful of grass. She hauled herself to her feet, brushing off the back of her school robes.

The DADA exam went swimmingly, Lupin even pointed out that he expected nothing less from Andria and told her that she had gained full marks. Herbology was a little trickier that Andria had anticipated, but she managed. This made Sprout unbelievably angry, not specifically at Andria, more at her ability to soar above the rest of her class even when she had managed to take just under two months off from her regular class schedule while everyone who had actually attended class stumbled and tripped up over the easiest of tasks.

Thursday morning's exam, Divination, was a complete flop. Andria wasn't the best of Divination at the best of times, but Trelawney had told her, rather snottily, actually, that she had just managed to get over half marks. Honestly, Andria wasn't so mad, this was quite a success.

The feeling of mediocre success was quickly diminished just before dinner. Lewis had decided that they should eat together, prepare for their History of Magic exam together over food. That wasn't the source of the soul sucking presence though, on no. It was none of other that Lucius Malfoy, parading down the corridor in the direction of, presumably, Dumbledore's office. Coincidentally heading towards Andria. Her entire being went cold.

"Father!" She gaped, blinking at him rapidly. "What are – What are you doing here?"

"Andria." He greeted with a stiff nod. Andria felt dizzy, it was the first time she had laid eyes upon either one of her parents after the news. "Who's your _friend_?"

"Uh, this is Brian Brooke." Andria lied, trying to look calm. "I'm tutoring him for History of Magic. It's our next exam." Luckily, Lewis caught on straight away. Or maybe he was too scared of _the_ Lucius Malfoy to admit otherwise. While Andria had tried to keep the fact that Lucius hates Lewis' very existence for pursuing his only daughter on the down low, he had managed to catch on. Thanks to Meredith. Who has the biggest mouth.

"Nice to meet you, sir." Lewis greeted, bowing his head as a sign of respect. He hesitated a few seconds, awaiting Lucius' reaction, praying to all of the Gods that he wouldn't go for a hand shake. The power of the wizarding world was on Lewis' side, Lucius barely acknowledged him.

"Pleasure." Lucius said curtly. "I thought for a second that was your little… _friend_. I trust you know the one I'm talking about, Andria."

"Not a Scooby." Andria huffed. "What brings you here?"

"The wild beast that harmed Draco is being executed in a matter of hours." Lucius said, smiling devilishly.

"That's great news." Andria said, slightly surprised.

"It would have been better if the…" He looked at Lewis shrewdly. "If the man who allowed your brother to be in harm's way was let go. Permanently." Andria could tell that Lucius was picking his words carefully.

"I have to go." Andria said abruptly. The premature exposure to a parent was getting to her heart. She hadn't found the time to mentally prepare herself for the inevitable, exams had gotten in the way. "Need to get dinner. It was nice seeing you."

"You can come down and watch if you want." Lucius offered, looking at the ceiling. Andria could tell that this was his way of giving her some sort of piece offering. In the form of watching an animal get slaughtered. Nice. "You can take your friends and sit with Draco and his friends."

"Is he taking Pansy?" Andria asked, suddenly feeling very, _very_ petty. "They are dating, aren't they, Brian?" Andria asked, looking at Lewis with a tilt to her head.

"I – I – I don't know." He stammered.

Lucius was none the wiser at Andria petty, childish behaviour. "He hasn't said. I'd imagine he was. Miss Parkinson is a nice girl." Yeah, the devil's child is very nice.

"I might invite Lewis then, if Draco can –"

"You will do no such thing." Lucius snapped, eyes narrowing. "I don't want to hear another word about that – that _boy_." Andria could feel Lewis physically recoil. She would too if she were him.

"I don't want to go anyway." Andria sniffed. "Watching the mindless killing of an animal makes me sad. It hangs upon my conscious. Which some of us lack." She gave her father a very pointed look before walking past him, Lewis practically glued to her side as they walk in silence to the Great Hall.


	24. Chapter 24

No studying got done during dinner. They sat at the table side by side in complete silence, listening to their friends speak around them but not fulling committing to any one conversation. Andria couldn't stop thinking about how she'd have to spend an entire summer with the people who had allowed her to fit in comfortably with their family and then, in a completely uncivilised, no-regards-to-her-feelings type of way, stripped her completely from that.

Lewis couldn't stop thinking about the fact that Lucius Malfoy, who he had only just met under an hour ago under a pseudo name, hated his guts. More than his guts, really, hated every single fibre in his body.

Andria managed to slip out of the castle before anyone could notice her absence. Everybody would expect her to be where she was allowed to go, one of the perks of being a renowned rule follower.

The grounds were silent. Pleasantly so, birds were chirping, trees were shaking their branches and in the distance Ron Weasley was getting dragged off by the arm by a large, scruffy looking black dog. Andria didn't hesitate on running towards them, shouting Harry's name frantically as a warning but it was too late, Harry had got thumped across the face by the Whomping Willow.

She managed to reach Harry as he whispered " _Lumos_!" and the end of his wand lit up. "What the bloody hell is happening?" She asked breathlessly.

"Ron!" Harry yelled as the dog tugged his friend into the gap in the Whomping Willow tree roots. He stepped forwards, trying to get to his friend but was whacked back by the Willow's thick, heavy branches. All that could be seen of Ron was his leg, wrapped securely around the tree root to stop the obviously feral dog from taking him any further. But not even his leg could stop the dog from getting what it wanted.

With a sickening crunch, Ron's leg had broken and within seconds his foot had disappeared. Andria couldn't stop herself from gagging.

"Harry – we've got to go for help –" Hermione cried, her knuckles were smeared with blood.

"No!" Harry objected loudly. "That thing's going to eat him, we haven't got time –"

Another branched whipped down, just missed the crown of Andria's head, only managing to grab at a few stray hairs. "Fuck." She hissed, stepped further back.

"If that dog can get in, we can." Harry claimed, attempting to get forwards, dodging the branched left, right and centre but there was too many. He was ducking too often to make any real progress.

"Come off it, Harry." Andria pleaded. "Hermione's right, we should go get a –" Andria was cut off by a large, orange cat running between her legs, snaking its way between the frantic branches and placing its front paws upon a knot on the trunk.

As if with magic, the tree stood obediently still. Not a single leaf dared to shake. "Crookshanks!" Hermione gasped quietly. She grabbed at Harry's arm. "How did he know -?"

"He's friends with that dog." Harry said grimly. "I've seen them together. Come on – and keep your wand out." Hermione and Harry advanced towards the trunk, leaving a shocked Andria rooted in place.

She shook herself from her daze, frantically moving forwards to the two younger children. "If you two think I'm letting you come in here alone you're both bonkers." The cat, Crookshanks, slipped between the gape in the roots. Without hesitation, something that Andria had begun to admire about him, Harry followed the cat. In a silent one-sided discussion, Hermione had let (really, she _forced_ ) Andria to go down next. She crawled forwards headfirst, and slid down the grubby, earthy slope to the bottom of a very low tunnel. With seconds to spare, Hermione was now at the bottom, looking around sceptically. "Where's Ron?" She asked into the darkness.

"This way." Harry beckoned the two of them, the only glow being from his wand. Hermione and Andria followed him, hunched over to avoid scraping their heads on the low ceiling.

"Where does this tunnel come out?" Andria asked, feeling suddenly very nervous about the whole _lets follow a cat into a tree_ thing.

"I don't know…" Harry answered sounding pretty breathless himself. "It's marked on the Marauder's Map but Fred and George said no one's ever got into it. It goes off the edge of the map, but it looked like it ends up in Hogsmeade…" Andria wondered if any of this was supposed to mean anything to her. It was probably meant for Hermione, Andria thought. The three of them followed the cat as fast as they could.

The passage seemed to trail on for ages, so long, in fact, that Andria wouldn't be surprised if when they got to the other end they'd all be aged and at least in their mid-twenties. Andria couldn't help but feel rather selfless. She didn't have to go and try and help a Weasley of all people, thought to be lower than muggleborns within the Pureblood Community just because they're deemed _blood traitors_. It could be the start of a really funny joke.

 _So a pureblood, a half-blood and a muggleborn are following a cat to save a blood traitor from a feral dog…_

Suddenly, the tunnel began to rise, seconds later it twisted and the cat had disappeared completely. Another light could be seen, not from the tip of Harry's wand, but from a small opening. "So this is the light at the end of the tunnel they all talk about…" Andria muttered.

The three of them stalled a little with anticipation of what could be the source of the mysterious light. They raised their wands, and stepped towards it cautiously.

It was an old, dusty room. It was a miracle that the wallpaper was stuck to the walls, most of it was hanging off. All of the furniture had, at one point, probably been smashed by someone. Or some _thing_. Stains were splattered all across the floor. The windows were boarded up from the outside. Harry jabbed Hermione and Andria in the ribs, giving them both significant looks. The two girls nodded and slowly, one by one, they hauled themselves through the hole.

Each other them looked around slowly, staying on guard. "Harry." Hermione whispered sounding alarmed. "I think we're in the shrieking shack."

"Fantastic." Andria grunted. "Blood amazing."

"Ghosts didn't do that." Harry said, looking at the chair that had been torn to shreds.

"Vengeful spirit, possibly." Andria said lowly. "Lupin said –" A creak overhead quickly shut Andria up. She gripped onto her wand tighter. As quietly as they could, they crept into the hall and up the decaying staircase. There wasn't a single thing not covered in dust, apart from a large, thick stripe on the floor, but that could have just been the dog attending to its sweeping with Ron's body.

They came to a dark landing and switched the light from their wands off. There was only a single door open which was probably the door which held Ron. Unless he had gained full use of his broken leg and decided that, hell, I hate open doors, so let's go and shut it. As a trio, they edged closer.

Low moans and ecstatic purrs came after the sound of suspicious movement. The three of them exchanged a look and a simple nod.

Harry kicked down the door in front of them, wand clutched tightly in his nimble hands. On a large four poster bed with dusty curtains lay Crookshanks, the cat, purring magnificently loud at the sight of the three of them. On the floor beside the dusty old bed sat Ron, clutching his leg which was in a terribly awkward position. Harry and Hermione went immediately to him, Andria decided to stay in place, in case the dog that brought Ron to this weirdly specific place was to return.

"Ron – are you okay?" Hermione asked breathlessly, grabbing onto his shaking hand.

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog." Ron moaned. Andria frowned, she had seen dog before, that thing was definitely a dog. "Harry, Andria, it's a trap –" Andria's brows crumpled together with confusion as to why Ron was addressing _her_.

"What –" this seemed to confuse Harry too.

" _He's the dog… he's an Animagus_." Ron was staring over Harry and Andria shoulder. She could feel her body run cold. Almost simultaneously, Harry and Andria spun around.

The figure that had been lurking in the shadows, only a mere few feet from Andria, shut the door with a loud bang. Instinctively, Andria jumped back, stumbling into Harry.

His hair looked greasier than the pictures, reached his elbows now in a curly, black, tangled mess. He looked almost dead, the only indicator that he was alive was his eyes that were bright. His skin was stretched across his bones, looking waxy and uncared for. His face just looked like a traditional skull with flaky skin pulled over it. His teeth were stained yellow and bared in a grin.

It was Sirius Black.


	25. Chapter 25

Andria's head was spinning wildly. She didn't have the time to defend herself, Hermione or Harry when he croaked " _Expelliarmus_!" Andria's wand, along with her other two companions, flew across the room into the grasp of Sirius Black. The man who wanted to kill at least one person in the room, possibly two. He took a step closer, eyes transfixed on Harry.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. He sounded like he was getting over a bad cold where his voice had went to pot and was just getting back into the rhythm of using it. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful… it will make everything much easier…"

Andria wanted to say something, possibly beat that bastard into the ground for making her life a living hell for the past few days but her mouth didn't even open. Her heart felt cold and icy, her head felt like it was filled with cotton and she was pretty sure that her fingers were numb.

Those feeling of intense petrification were soon diminished as Harry started forwards. Instinctively, herself and Hermione grabbed him by the waist. "What are you doing?" Andria yelped. "Are you _insane_?"

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" Ron spoke boldly. He had managed to stand up, perhaps he was going to grab the other side of Harry had Andria not. He swayed a little as he spoke bravely.

"Lie down." Black said, almost sincerely. "You'll damage that leg even more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron asked weakly. He clung tightly to the bed post for support. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll only be one murder here tonight." Black said, grin widening as if he were excited at the thought of killing a minor.

"Why's that?" Harry spat furiously, trying to pry himself free of Andria and Hermione's grip. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew… What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?"

"Harry, please, calm down a notch, all right?" Andria tried to soothe. "He's not worth the anger."

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared. In Andria's momentary state of shock, Harry wriggled free of her and Hermione's grip and lunged forwards. One of Harry's grabbed at Black's wand pointing wrist, the other hands knuckles colliding neatly with the side of Black's head. They fell back against the wall clumsily.

"Harry!" Andria yelped. Hermione was screaming and Ron was yelling along with Andria.

Harry beat into Black messily. In the midst of all of the confusion, one of Black's hands went free, grabbing at Harry's throat. "No," he hissed, voice still scratchy "I've waited too long –" Hermione leapt forwards, kicking her foot at the filthy Azkaban escapee. Harry was released with a grunt and Ron threw himself at Black's wand, ripping past Andria.

Andria huffed to herself, stepping forwards and tugging Harry free of the tangle of bodies. "You need to –"

"ARGH!" Crookshanks, the stupid cat, had torpedoed forwards, claws extended and digging itself into Harry's arm. He flung the cat off, sending it in the direction of the wands. Unfortunately, the cat wasn't so dumb, it darted towards Harry's wand –

"NO YOU DON'T!" Harry roared, tearing himself from Andria's grip to kick at the cat which made it leap to the side, spitting wildly at Harry. He snagged his wand and turned –

"Get out of the way!" He yelled at his two friends who were still wrestling with Black. They scrambled out of the way quickly, Hermione's lip was bleeding and she, the smart girl, snatched the remaining three wands – hers, Ron's and Andria's.

Andria went to a crawling Ron, helping him get closer to the bed. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly, taking her wand from Hermione.

"Oh, yeah." He said breathlessly. "Never been better."

"Going to kill me, Harry?" Black wheezed from the corner. Andria went to Harry's side, raising her chin high so she was looking down at Black like he were a speck of dirt – which he was.

"If he doesn't I will." Andria said determinedly. "Don't test my patience, _Black_. You have no idea who I was brought up by. You don't know the shit that I've learned. I know the spell. I know the two words that will end your _pathetic little life_."

"Oh." He moaned quietly, ducking his head to the right before looking back up at Andria. "And –"

"You killed my parents." Harry said, voice shaking, wand steady in his hand. Black turned to Harry, eyes looking sullen and sunken.

"I don't deny it." He said, almost inaudible. "But if you knew the whole story –"

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, completely calm in the face of hysteria. "You sold them to Voldemort, that's all I need to know!"

"You've got to listen to me." Black said with urgency. "You'll regret it if you don't… you don't understand…"

"I understand a lot better than you think." Harry said, voice trembling horrendously. "You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… and you did that… you did it…" Before Harry or Black could fit in another word, an orange streak leapt onto Black's chest. That damn cat settled over Black's chest, directly over his heart.

"I fucking _hate_ this cat." Andria huffed.

"Get off." Black muttered, trying to push the orange puff ball off his chest. Crookshanks had other ideas, obviously, sinking its claws into Black's robes. Hermione gave a loud, dry sob from behind Andria and Harry as the cat looked at them.

"He's a murderer, you _stupid_ thing." Andria yelp with frustration. "I'll kill you too, if it means I get through to _him_."

"No!" Hermione sobbed. "Please! Not my cat!"

"He's helping Black, I can't perform the killing spell if I can't get to his heart. I'm a rookie, I need to get to his heart for it to be –" Andria was cut off by another noise. The sound of muffled steps coming from down the – down the hall! There was someone else there!

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione yelped loudly. "WE'RE UP HERE – SIRIUS BLACK – _QUICK_!" Black moved suddenly, almost moving the cat from his chest. Andria hesitated, looking cautiously at Harry. He looked so determined. She was going to be the back-up, she decided, Harry needs this. He needs to take revenge.

The door bust open, revealing a weak looking, shaggy Professor Lupin.

"Professor." Andria breathed with relief. He would help. He would help Harry kill –

" _Expelliarmus_!" Lupin shouted and the wands from Harry and Andria's hands flew into Lupin's. As well as that, the wands Hermione had been clutching had zoomed across the room into Lupin's grasp.

Andria didn't let herself be consumed with anger. There must be an explanation – Professor Lupin wouldn't be defending a mass murderer. He probably didn't want two young teenagers to kill him. Andria breathed a short sigh of relief. She wasn't sure, deep down, that she had enough strength to kill Black. While he had managed to install a level of fear that she had never felt into her very being she didn't have the passion for the kill.

Lupin spoke up, eventually. His voice ghosted with many undetectable emotions. "Where is he, Sirius?" Andria looked to Lupin, Harry did too, the both of them looked at Lupin with the highest level on confusion. Who was this mysterious ' _he_ '? Why was Lupin talking to Black as if he was a familiar? Slowly, Andria turned back to Black, awaiting his answer eagerly.

Black looked as if Lupin was one of the ghosts that parade the Shrieking shack. For many seconds, he didn't move or speak. But suddenly, with his empty hand, he lifted it and pointed directly at Ron, who looked bewildered.

"But then…" Lupin muttered, staring at Black as if he was trying to get into his mind. "…why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless –" Lupin's eyes bulged with sudden realisation. Andria was beginning to lose hope that Lupin was on their side. She could feel her eyes begin to well with tears – yet another person she trusted had betrayed her. "- unless _he_ was the one… unless you switched... without telling me?"

Slowly, Black's corpse-like face nodded.

"Professor Lupin." Harry interrupted loudly. "What going –"

Harry didn't have the time to finish his question as the scene before them was enough to dwindle any persons voice into nothingness. Lupin was lowering his wand. He was never on their side. Suddenly, it all made sense. Snape was adamant, that night when they all slept in the great Hall, that a teacher was helping Black in and out of the castle. That teacher – _Merlin_ , that teacher must have been Lupin.

Lupin, the filthy traitor, walked to Black's side took a firm grip of his hand, tugged him to his feet (the cat fell to the floor) and embraced Black like a good, old friend.

Andria felt physically sick and the tears didn't hesitate on dripping down her cheeks. " _Harry_." She muttered, grabbing onto his hand tightly and tugging him backwards. Harry didn't object, he allowed himself to be used like a ragdoll. "Snape was talking about you wasn't he?" Andria asked furiously. The two _friends_ didn't let go of each other. "LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU, LUPIN!" Andria screamed, her hand tightening around Harry's. Lupin let go of Black and turned towards Andria. "Snape said to Dumbledore that there was a teacher who was more than likely helping Black into the –"

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screeched. Lupin turned to her. Hermione raised from the ground and looked at her Professor with wild eyes, pointing at him. "You – You –"

"Hermione –"

"- you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down –"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you –"

"Hermione, listen to me, please!" Lupin shouted, equally as loud as his student. Andria could feel her heart contract in her chest. More tears streamed down her face. "I can explain –"

"I trusted you!" Harry shouted at Lupin. "And all the time you've been his friend!" Despite his unwavering anger that only seemed to grow, Harry kept a tight hold of Andria's hand.

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius' friend for twelve years, but I am now."

"I feel sick." Andria cried, sniffing and wiping at her cheeks with her free hand.

"Andria, please, let me explain –"

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Andria, Harry, don't trust him, he's been helping Black into the castle like you said, he wants you dead, Harry, Andria, wants Black to capture you and keep you in a – keep you in a _cage_ , he's – _he's a werewolf_!"

The room went static with silence. Every pair of eyes were on Lupin, even the cats, but he stayed remarkably calm in the midst of the accusation, although rather pale. "Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione." He said. "Only one out of four, I'm afraid." Andria wondered how he had the audacity to speak to them like he was still their teacher. "I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don't want Harry dead _or_ Andria to be locked up in a cage." A peculiar shiver passed over his face. "But I won't deny that I am a werewolf."

Ron made a valiant effort to get up again, but fell back down with a hiss of pain. Lupin started towards him, looking concerned but Andria quickly stepped in his path, promising herself that neither of the two filthy vermin would dare touch the three youngest in the room. " _Get away from me, werewolf!"_ Ron shrieked.

Lupin stopped dead, didn't try to step past Andria like he had been going to. He turned to Hermione with obvious effort. "How long have you known?" He asked.

"Ages." The young girl whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay…"

"He'll be delighted." Lupin said coolly. "He set that essay hoping someone would realise what my symptoms meant. I was surprised you didn't get there, Andria." She said nothing, just narrowed her eyes at him. "Did you check the lunar chart and realise that I was always ill at the full moon? Or did you realise that the Boggart changed into the moon when it saw me?" He asked, turning back to Hermione.

"Both." She said, quietly.

Lupin forced a laugh. "You're the cleverest witch of your age I've ever met, Hermione."

"I'm not." She denied. "If I'd been a bit cleverer, I'd have told everyone what you are!"

"But they already know." Said Lupin. "At least, the staff do."

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewolf?" Ron gaped, mouth hanging open wide enough for the Hogwarts Express to probably gain access. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," Lupin said. "He had to work very hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy –"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelped. Andria squeezed his hand a little, trying to be reassuring. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" Harry pointed viciously at Black, who had managed to shift himself onto the four poster bed between all of the shouting and confusion. A shaking hand covered his face and that wretched cat was on his lap, purring loudly. From the floor, Ron gripped at his broken leg and shuffled away.

"I have _not_ been helping Sirius." Lupin said firmly.

"Of course not." Andria spat. "That's why you're talking to him like you're – like you're _familiars_. We trusted you, Lupin. You knew that he wants to kill Harry, didn't you? You knew all along! Did you know about – about _me_? His fascination with my mother?"

"You need to calm down." Lupin said softly. "You're going to hurt yourself." Andria huffed, not wanting to admit that her own shouting and petty crying was giving her a rather big headache. "If you'll give me a chance, I'll explain. Look –" Lupin separated Harry, Hermione, Ron and Andria's wands, threw each back to its owner. Andria caught hers with her left hand, her right hand still wrapped around Harry's left. Her non-wand hand was useless. She had tried to get the both to the same level of spell casting in her first year but quickly gave up when it didn't go to plan.

"Get behind me." Andria whispered, stepping out in front of Harry, switching her wand to her right hand and pointing it between Lupin, Black and the cat.

"There," Lupin said like he was making a point. He stuck his own wand into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

"If you haven't been helping him," Harry said after a quiet second "how did you know he was here?"

"The map," Lupin said unevenly. "The Marauder's Map. I was in my office examining it –"

"You know how to work it?" Harry asked from behind Andria, sounding suspicious. Andria narrowed her eyes slightly with confusion, why was Harry so surprised that Lupin could work a map?

"Of course I know how to work it." Lupin said, waving his hand impatiently in the air. "I helped write it. I'm Moony – that was my friends' nickname for me at school."

"You _wrote_ –"

"The important thing is, I was watching it carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his Hippogriff was executed. And I was right, wasn't I?" Lupin began pacing back and forth, dust kicking up at his feet. "You might have been wearing your father's old Cloak, Harry –"

"How d'you know about the Cloak?" Andria felt truly lost in their conversation but stayed quiet.

"The number of times I saw James disappearing under it…" Lupin waved an impatient hand once more. "The point is, even if you're wearing an Invisibility Cloak you show up on the Marauder's Map. I watched you cross the grounds and enter Hagrid's hut. Twenty minutes later, you left Hagrid, and set off back towards the castle. But you were now accompanied by somebody else."

"Andria didn't come down until –"

"It wasn't Andria."

"What?" Harry asked sounding slightly alarmed. "No, we weren't!"

"I couldn't believe my eyes." He said, still pacing and ignoring Harry's interruption. "I thought the map must be malfunctioning. How could he be with you?"

"No one was with us!"

"And then I saw another dot, moving fast towards you, labelled _Sirius Black_ …." Andria was truly amazed. A map that could track people? "I saw him collide with you, I watched as he pulled two of you into the Whomping Willow –"

"One of us!" Ron said angrily.

"No, Ron," said Lupin. "Two of you." Lupin stopped pacing and looked over Ron. "Do you think I could have a look at the rat?" He said stiffly.

"What?" Ron said, looking rather offended on his rat's behalf. "What's Scabbers got to do with it?"

"Everything." Lupin said, staring at the small bulge in Ron's robes. "Could I see him please?"

Ron was hesitant. He shoved a hand inside his robes and the bulge thrashed about violently, seemingly desperate. Andria prioritized, pointed her wand at the rat that Ron hauled out of his robes. It was balding and Ron held it by the tail to stop it from escaping. The cat stood up from Black's lap and made a long, quiet hissing noise.

Lupin stepped closer to Ron, seeming to be holding his breath, staring almost hungrily at the rat. "What?" Ron said again, holding his rat close, looking rather scared for his pets' wellbeing. "What's my rat got to do with anything?"

"That's not a rat." Croaked Black from the bed.

"What d'you mean – of course he's a rat –"

"No, he's not." Lupin said quietly. "He's a wizard."

"An Animagus," Black croaked, "by the name of Peter Pettigrew."


	26. Chapter 26

"You're both mental." Ron said, voicing Andria's thoughts perfectly.

"Ridiculous!" Hermione said faintly.

"Peter Pettigrew is dead!" Said Harry. "He killed him twelve years ago!" Harry pointed at Black, who's face twitched convulsively.

"I meant to," he growled, yellow teeth on show, "but little Peter got the better of me… not this time though!" Black physically lunged himself to Ron, the cat being shoved off in the opposite direction. Black landed on Ron's broken leg, getting a loud scream of pain.

"Sirius, NO!" Lupin yelled, launching himself at Black, dragging him away from Ron. "WAIT! You can't do it just like that – they need to understand – we've got to explain –"

"We can explain afterwards!" Black snarled, trying to get out of Lupin's steel grip, clawing at the air as if this would lure the rat – or possibly Peter Pettigrew – to him. The rat was squealing, scratching at Ron's face and neck as he tried to flee.

"They've – got – a – right – to – know – everything!" Lupin panted, trying to keep Black from further harming Ron and killing the rat. "Ron's kept him as a pet!" He tried to reason. "There are parts of it even I don't understand! And Harry – You owe Harry the truth, Sirius! You owe _both of them_ the truth!" Black slumped into Lupin's grip, not removing his eyes from the rat.

"All right, then." Black said, not even blinking. He really didn't want to lose sight of the rat. "Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus. I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for…" Had this been under normal circumstances, Andria would have pointed out snottily that he was also imprisoned for being in league with the Dark Lord, but this was by no means normal circumstances.

"You're nutters, both of you." Ron accused shakily, looking around at Harry, Hermione and Andria for support. "I've had enough of this. I'm off." He tried to hoist himself up onto his good, working leg, but Lupin was quick to point his wand at Ron's enclosed hands, containing the rat.

"You're going to hear me out, Ron." Lupin said quietly. "Just keep a tight hold on Peter while you listen."

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, attempting to shove his rat into his robes. The rat was struggling violently causing Ron to sway and topple. Andria caught him quickly, helping him back onto the bed.

"There were witnesses who saw Pettigrew die." Harry said. "A whole street full of them…"

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" Black cried savagely, eyes not leaving the struggling rat.

"Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter," Lupin nodded. "I believed it myself – until I saw the map tonight. Because the Marauder's Map never lies… Peter's alive. Ron's holding him, Harry."

Andria lowered her wand, sighing heavily. How Dumbledore even allowed someone to teach at Hogwarts who was so obviously a completely idiot was beyond her.

"But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can't be Pettigrew… it just can't be true, you know it can't…" It sounded like Hermione was trying to talk sense into Lupin.

"Why can't it be true?" Lupin asked. It reminded Andria of how he would talk in class; consoling and willing to listen to any objections.

"Because… because people would know if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall and I looked them up when I did my homework – the Ministry keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have only been seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list –"

Lupin started to laugh.

"Right again, Hermione!" he praised. "But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts."

"If you're going to tell them the story, get a move on, Remus," Black snarled. He was still keeping a watchful eye on the desperate rat. "I've waited twelve years, I'm not going to wait much longer."

"All right… but you'll need to help me, Sirius." Lupin said. "I only know how it began…" Lupin broke off, a loud creak coming from behind him. The bedroom door swung open by itself. All six of them stared at it. Lupin was the only on brave enough to look out into the landing. "No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" Ron squeaked.

"It's not." Lupin said, looking at the door with a great deal of confusion.

Andria rolled her eyes hotly. "It's probably just the wind."

"The Shrieking Shack was never haunted… the screams and howls the villagers used to hear were made by me." He pushed his greying hair from his eyes and waited a few seconds. "That's where all of this starts – with my becoming a werewolf. None of this could have happened if I hadn't been bitten… and if I hadn't been so foolhardy…"

" _Shh_!" Hermione shushed at Ron as he tried to interrupt.

"I was a very small boy when I received the bite. My parents tried everything, but in those days there was no cure. The Potion that Professor Snape has been making for me is a very recent discovery. It makes me safe, you see. As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform… I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully-fledged monster once a month. It seem impossible that I would be able to come to Hogwarts. Other parents weren't likely to want their children exposed to me. But then Dumbledore became Headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He said that, as long as we took certain precautions, there was no reason I shouldn't come to school…" Lupin sighed, looking at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the Whomping Willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted _because_ I had come to Hogwarts. This house –" Lupin looked distastefully around the dusty room "- the tunnel that leads to it – they were built for my use. Once a month, I was smuggled out of the castle, into this place, to transform. The tree was placed at the tunnel mouth to stop anyone coming across me while I was dangerous." The rat squeaked frantically from Ron's grasp.

"My transformations in those days were – were terrible. It is very painful to turn into a werewolf. I was separated from humans to bite, so I bit and scratched myself instead. The villagers heard the noise and the screaming and thought they were hearing particularly violent spirits. Dumbledore encouraged the rumour, even now, when the house has been silent for years, the villagers don't dare approach it…" Andria couldn't help but feel grief for Lupin, she had always heard the way that her mother and father would talk about werewolves with such… distaste and dislike. Andria had never had a problem with them, so to speak, they were, after all, wizards for the rest of the month.

"But apart from the transformations, I was happier that I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, three great friends, Sirius Black… Peter Pettigrew… and, of course, your father, Harry – James Potter. Now, my three friends could hardly fail to notice that I disappeared once a month. I made up all sorts of stories. I told them my mother was ill, and that I had to go home and see her… I was terrified they would desert me the moment they found out what I was. But of course, they, like you, Hermione, worked out the truth… and they didn't desert me at all. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformations not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad, too?" Harry asked astounded.

"Yes, indeed." Lupin confirmed. "Took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong – one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius. Finally, in our fifth year, they managed it. They could each turn into a different animal at will."

"But how did that help you?" Hermione asked curiously.

"They couldn't keep me company as humans, so they kept me company as animals." Lupin said, looking rather fond as he reminisced. "A werewolf is only a danger to people. They sneaked out of the castle every month under James's Invisibility Cloak. They transformed… Peter, as the smallest, could slip under the Willow's attacking branches and tough the knot that freezes it. They would then slip down the tunnel and join me. Under their influence, I became less dangerous. My body was still wolfish, but my mind seemed to be less so while I was with them."

"Hurry up, Remus." Black snarled, watching as the rat struggled more viciously.

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there…"Lupin said calmly, possibly he was hoping that he would pass some of his calm onto Black, who was obviously _not_. "Well, highly exciting possibilities were open to us now we could all transform. Soon we were leaving the Shrieking Shack and roaming the school grounds and the village by night. Sirius and James transformed into such large animals, they were able to keep a werewolf in check. I doubt whether Hogwarts students ever found out more about the Hogwarts grounds and Hogsmeade than we did… And that's how we came to write the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot, Peter is Wormtail, James was Prongs."

"What sort of animal –"

"That was really dangerous!" Hermione shrieked, not bothering to let Harry ask about his father's Animagi form. "Running around in the dark with a werewolf! What if you'd given the others the slip, and bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me." Lupin said heavily, sincerely. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless – carried away with our own cleverness." Lupin gave a brisk sigh. "I sometimes felt guilty about betraying Dumbledore's trust, of course… he admitted me to Hogwarts when no other Headmaster would have done so, and he had no idea I was breaking the ruled he had set down for my own and others' safety. He never knew I had led three fellow students into becoming Animagi illegally. But I always managed to forget my guilty feelings every time we sat down to plan our next month's adventure. And I haven't changed..." Lupin's features hardened and there was an aura of self-disgust about him. "All this year, I have been battling with myself, wondering whether I should tell Dumbledore that Sirius was an Animagus. But I didn't do it. Why? Because I was too cowardly. It would have meant admitting that I'd betrayed his trust while I was at school, admitting that I'd led others along with me… and Dumbledore's trust has meant everything to me. He let me into Hogwarts as a boy, and he gave me a job, when I have been shunned all my adult life, unable to find paid work because of what I am. And so I convinced myself that Sirius was getting into the school using Dark Arts he learnt from Voldemort, that being an Animagus had nothing to do with it… so, in a way, Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" Black practically spat, as though the Head of Slytherin Houses name was poison on his tongue. For the first time in many minutes he looked away from the rat. "What's Snape got to do with it?"

"He's here, Sirius." Lupin said. "He's teaching here as well." Lupin looked between his four students. "Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons… you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me –"

Black made a mocking noise. "It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to… hoping he could get us expelled." That sounded _exactly_ like something Snape would do.

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month." Lupin told his students. "We were in the same year, you know, and we – er – didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James' talent on the Quidditch pitch… anyway, Snape had seen me crossing the grounds with Madame Pomfrey one evening as she led me towards the Whomping Willow to transform. Sirius thought it would be – er – amusing, to tell Snape all he had to do was prod the knot on the tree-trunk with a long stick, and he'd be able to get in after me. Well, of course, Snape tried it – if he'd had got as far as this house, he'd have met me, a fully grown werewolf – but your father, who'd heard what Sirius had done, went after Snape and pulled him back, at great risk to hi life… Snape glimpsed me, though, at the end of the tunnel. He was forbidden to tell anybody by Dumbledore, but from that time on he knew what I was…"

"Huh." Andria mused. She looked over to Black. "So you've shown murderous signs even as a young teen. How wonderfully delighting, Black. I bet your mother is so, _so_ proud." Black had the audacity to smirk, looking at Andria with some sort of approval.

"So that's why Snape doesn't like you, because he thought you were in on the joke?" Harry asked slowly.

"That's right." Sneered a cold voice from the wall behind Lupin. Slowly, the being of Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and Potions Master of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry, was slowly pulling a thin sheet from his body, wand pointing at Lupin threateningly.

Black was up on his feet, Hermione had let out a long, terrified scream, Harry had jumped to the side and Andria, going against every thought in her head that told her not to, was pointing her own wand directly at Snape.


	27. Chapter 27

He didn't take much notice, probably didn't deem her a big enough threat to do so. "I found this at the base of the Whomping Willow. Very useful, Potter, I thank you…" Snape said breathlessly as he threw the Cloak to the side, carefully not to move his wand from Lupin. "Put your wand down, you stupid girl." Snape growled, eyeing up the tip of Andria's wand.

"No." She said firmly, standing her ground.

"I have more spells in my arsenal that you have ever learned in your life, Malfoy." Form the corner, Black made some sort of whimper-like, pained noise. Everybody ignored him.

"True." Andria admitted. "Painfully so, Professor and I'll admit, I am doing this against my own better judgement."

Snape sneered. "You're willing to duel with your teacher? For the likes of _Black_?"

"No. I'm willing to duel with a teacher who is constantly disregarding my wellbeing and so on to protect a Professor who I believe is telling the truth. Again, against my better judgement."

"I wonder what your father will have to say about this." Snape leered, eyes moving between Lupin and Andria. "His only daughter willing to put her life on the line for a mass murderer."

"I wonder what my father will say to the fact that you just implied that you would be willing to kill me to get to Lupin or Black." Snape faltered slightly, probably coming to the same conclusion that Lucius Malfoy would not be a happy bunny. "I mean, let's not fool ourselves, Professor. I know just as much as you do what my father would be willing to share with myself and my brother. He finds us very… _trustworthy_. You're Draco's favourite Professor. I wonder why that may –"

"Enough." Snape barked. "Stand aside."

Andria did not move. "Do as Professor Snape tells you, Andria." Lupin said quietly. "I can handle myself. If it looks like I'm getting the worst of it, then you can jump in." Andria sighed lowly, lowering her wand but keeping it tightly in her hand.

"You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" Snape asked, eyes glittering. "I've just been to your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along. And very lucky I did… lucky for me, I mean. Lying on your desk was a certain map. One glance at it told me all I needed to know. I saw you running along this passageway and out of sight."

"Severus –" Lupin started but Snape was quick to silence him.

"I've told the Headmaster again and again that you've been helping your old friend Black into the castle, Lupin, and here's the proof. Not even I dreamed you would have the nerve to use this old place as your hideout –"

"Severus, you're making a mistake." Lupin said urgently. "You haven't heard everything – I can explain – Sirius is not here to kill Harry or maim And –"

"Two more for Azkaban tonight." Snape practically boasted, eyes gleaming with pure ecstasy. "I shall be interested to see how Dumbledore takes this… he was quite convinced you were harmless, you know, Lupin… a _tame_ werewolf…"

"You fool," Lupin said softly. "Is a schoolboy grudge worth putting an innocent man back inside Azkaban?"

Thin, snake-like cords ran out the tip of Snape's wand with a loud _BANG_ , twisting themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists and ankles. Lupin overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move a single muscle. Black let out an angry roar, starting towards Snape, but the years in Azkaban must have made him too slow. Snape pointed his wand directly between Black's eyes. "Give me a reason." Snape whispered. "Give me one reason to do it, and I swear I will." Black stopped dead in his tracks, his face painted with nothing but pure hatred.

Andria looked down at Lupin, eyebrows raised as a question if she should step it. Lupin's eyes dashed from left to right. She stayed still, hoping to God that Lupin was telling her _no, don't do anything_.

Hermione stepped forwards and asked in a breathless voice, "Professor Snape – it – it wouldn't hurt to hear what they've got to say, w-wouldn't it?"

"Miss Granger, you are already facing suspension from this school. You, Potter, Weasley and Malfoy are out of bounds, in the company of a convicted murderer and a werewolf. For once in your life, _hold your tongue_." Anger flared up inside Andria but she stayed quiet.

"But if – if there _was_ a mistake –"

"KEEP QUIET, YOU STUPID GIRL!" Snape yelled, looking completely insane. "DON'T TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!" A few sparks shot from Snape's wand, tickling the end of Black's nose. Andria didn't think it was intentional, possibly just Snape's wand reacting with his rage. "Vengeance is very wet," Snape breathed at Black. "How I hoped it would be me to catch you…"

"The joke's on you again, Severus," Black snarled back, equally as vicious. "As long as this boy brings his rat up to the castle –" he jerked his head at Ron, "- I'll come quietly."

"Up to the castle?" Snape asked delicately, as if he knew more than anyone else in the room. "I don't think we need to go that far. All I have to do is call the Dementors once we get out of the Willow. They'll be very pleased to see you, Black… pleased enough to give you a little kiss, I daresay…" The morsel of colour Black had to his face was instantly drained.

"You – you've got to hear me out." Black practically begged. "The rat – look at the rat –"

Snape looked positively evil, his eyes were flared and Andria could just tell that there was no space for reasoning with him. "Come on, all of you." Snape said, clicking his fingers.

Lupin soared up from the ground, the cords that bound his body together went to Snape's hands. "I'll drag the werewolf. Perhaps the Dementors will have a kiss for him, too –" Harry mindlessly crossed the room and was blocking the doorway. "Get out of the way, Potter, you're in enough trouble already." Snape warned. "If I hadn't been here to save your skin –"

"Professor Lupin could have killed me about a hundred times this year," Harry objected, trying to prove a point. "I've been alone with him loads of times, having defence lessons against the Dementors."

"I've been alone with him too." Andria chimed in. "If – If Black _truly_ wants to get to me and Lupin was working with him, I've been with him loads. Spent the better part of half a year eating lunch in his room with him. _Alone_.Never harmed me once."

Harry nodded eagerly, possibly thinking that he had a solid defence against Lupin's innocence. "See? If he was helping Black, why didn't he just finish me off then? Why didn't capture Andria himself and hand her off to Black?"

"Don't ask me to fathom the way a werewolf's mind works." Snape hissed. "Get out of the way, Potter."

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelped. "JUST BECAUSE THEY MADE A FOOL OF YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN –"

"SILENCE!" Snape bellowed. "I WILL NOT BE SPOKEN TO LIKE THAT!" Snape looked mad, madder than Andria had ever seen him. "Like father, like son, Potter! I have just saved your neck, you should be thanking me on the bended knee! You would have been well served if he'd killed you! You'd have died like your father, too arrogant to believe you might be mistaken in Black – now get out of the way or I will _make_ you. GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!"

In a flash, Harry was grabbing at his wand and pointing it at Snape. " _Expelliarmus_!" Although, Harry's voice had seemed to triple. Andria turned around and Ron and Hermione were both pointing their wands at where Snape once stood. Andria turned back to Snape who was now sliding down the wall and onto the floor, blood trickling down from behind his hair line.

"Bloody hell." Andria muttered, eyes widening.

"You shouldn't have done that," Black said, staring at Harry. "You should have left him to me."

"Because you would have gotten far." Andria sneered. "What, with no wand and Snape pointing his at you. You should be thankful that those three deemed your life worthy of a saving. For now, at least. I don't believe Lupin, down there, has finished his story." At the mention of Lupin, Black bent down, untying his friend. Lupin straightened up, rubbing at his arms were mild rope burns were already starting to show.

"Thank you, Harry." He thanks.

"I'm still not saying I believe you." Harry retorted.

"Then it's time we offer you some proof." Black said, turning to Ron and looking at his hands with a deranged hunger. "You, boy – give me Peter. Now."

Ron held his hands closer to his chest. "Come off it." Ron moaned weakly. "Are you trying to say you broke out of Azkaban just to get your hands on _Scabbers_? I mean…" Ron looked to Hermione, Andria and Harry for some sort of support. "Okay, say Pettigrew could turn into a rat – there are millions of rats – how's he supposed to know which one he's after if he was locked up in Azkaban?"

"You know, Sirius, that's a fair question." Lupin said turning to Black with questioning brows and a frown to match. "How _did_ you find out where he was?" Black stuck a hand inside his robes, pulling out an old, crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed it out, displayed it to show everyone. It was a photograph of the Weasley family that had appeared in the Daily Prophet. Andria could remember seeing that issue on the coffee table in the drawing room back home. She remembered her father poking fun at it and Draco laughing like it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. Andria laughed too, she wasn't about to deny that, but that was before… well, _everything_.

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked, utterly shell shocked.

"Fudge." Black answered simply. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. And there was Peter, on the front page… on this boys shoulder… I knew him at once… how many times had I seen him transform? And the caption said the boy would be going back to Hogwarts… to where Andr – Harry was." Andria eyed Black heavily, letting him know that his slip up didn't go unnoticed and was definitely _not_ approved of.

"My God." Lupin uttered, looking between the rat and the Daily Prophet snippet. "His front paw…"

"What about it?" Ron asked defensively.

"He's got a toe missing." Black said, looking down at his clipping with a slight hint of pride that he had managed to deduce that Pettigrew was – _could be_ Ron's pet rat.

"Of course," Lupin whispered, "so simple... so _brilliant_ … He cut it off himself?"

"Just before he transformed." Black confirmed. "When I cornered him, he yelled for the whole street to hear that I'd betrayed Lily and James. Then, before I could curse him, he blew apart the street with the wand behind his back, killed everyone within twenty feet of himself – and sped down into the sewer with the other rats…"

"Didn't you ever hear, Ron?" asked Lupin. "The biggest bit of Peter they found was his finger."

"Look, Scabbers probably had a fight with another rat or something! He's been in my family for ages, right –"

"Twelve years, in fact. Didn't you ever wonder why he was living so long?" Lupin asked, looking truly amazed by his new revelations.

"We – we've been taking good care of him!" Ron defended, seeming to clutch onto his rat tighter.

"Not looking too good at the moment, though, is he?" Lupin asked. "I'd guess he's been losing weight ever since he heart Sirius was on the loose again…"

"He's been scared of that mad cat!" Andria couldn't deny it, that cat _was_ pretty bonkers.

"That cat isn't mad." Black defended the cat hoarsely. He reached out a thinned hand, scratching the cats head. "He's the most intelligent of his kind I've ever met. And when he met me, he knew I was no dog. It was a while before he trusted me. Finally, I managed to communicate to him what I was after, and he's been helping me…"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked quietly.

"He tried to bring Peter to me, but couldn't… so he stole the passwords into Gryffindor Tower for me… As I understand it, he took them from a boys bedside table… but Peter caught wind of what was going on and ran for it… this cat – Crookshanks, did you call him? – told me Peter had left blood on the sheets… I suppose he bit himself… well, faking his own death had worked once…"

"And why did he fake his death?" Harry asked furiously. "Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!"

"No. Harry –" Lupin tried to get Harry to see whatever he had sussed out, but Harry was having none of it.

"And now you've come to finish him off!"

"Yes, I have." Black admitted with an evil look directed towards the rat.

"Then I should've let Snape take you!" Harry yelled.

"Harry," Lupin said quickly, "don't you see? All this time we've thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down – but it was the other way around, don't you _see_? _Peter_ betrayed your mother and father – Sirius tracked _Peter_ down –"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" And Harry was back to shouting at full volume again. "HE WAS THEIR SECRET KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP, HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!" Harry was pointing an angry finger at Black, who shook his head slowly.

"Harry… I as good as killed them," he croaked sadly. "I persuaded Lily and James to change to Peter at the last moment, persuaded them to use him as Secret Keeper instead of me… I'm to blame, I know it… the night they died, I'd arranged to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he'd gone. Yet there was no sign of struggle. It didn't feel right. I was scared. I set out for your parents' house straight away. And when I saw their house, destroyed, and their bodies – I realised what Peter must have done. What I'd done." Black's voice broke and he turned away. Andria couldn't believe it. She was feeling sorry for a mass mur – for a man falsely accused of being a mass murderer. Her shoulders slumped and she let out a thin sigh.

"Enough of this," Lupin said in a strange tone. "There's one certain way to prove what really happened. Ron, _give me that rat_."

"What are you going to do to him if I give him to you?" Ron asked tensely.

"Force him to show himself." Lupin explained. "If he really is a rat, it won't hurt him."

Ron held the rat closer to his chest, eyeing up Lupin suspiciously. "There's a spell," Andria started slowly. Ron looked to her intently. "It's purpose it to make the Animagi return to their human form. It was created by the Ministry many years ago to help those who managed to transform but couldn't turn back into their human form. I could perform it. Alongside someone, of course, I've never cast it before. But I'll do it too if it'll put you at ease." Her own tone of voice reminded her of when she was younger and would be the last resort on trying to make Draco eat his greens. _I'll eat them with you, if you want me too. We can do it together._

Ron hesitantly held out his rat to Lupin. The rat squeaked loudly, wriggling about as Lupin took it in his hands. "Ready Andria?" She nodded, taking a closer step to Lupin. "Sirius?" Black had retrieved Snape's wand from the bed, where it had flown after Hermione, Ron and Harry had disarmed him.

"Together?" Black asked quietly.

"I think so." Lupin held the rat tightly in one hand, wand in the other. "On the count of three. One – two – THREE!" Andria flicked her wand, shouting the spell. A bright blue-white light erupted from each wand and for a few moments, the rat froze in mid-air and Ron yelled. The rat twisted and eventually fell to the floor. Another blinding flash of light sprouted from each of the wand, hitting the rat.

It was almost like watching the development of a tree only sped up. A very human head shot up from the ground; arms and legs were emerging and after a few seconds, in place of the rat, a man stood, cringing and twisting his hands together.

Bloody Hell, the rat really wasn't a rat. It was Peter Pettigrew.

/ / /

 **I apologise for the dialog being directly from the book, it's aggravating me deeply, I was going to give Andria's entire encounter with Black in the Shrieking Shack one chapter, but that would surpass 9000 words for sure, then I was just going to spit out the chapters but I want to keep a fairly large distance between the chapter I'm sending out and the chapter I'm currently writing. Sigh… I apologise once again, please bear with me for the time being.**


	28. Chapter 28

Peter Pettigrew looked very rat-like. He was short, barely smaller than Andria with heels, they could possibly be the same size had she been barefoot. His hear was thin, colourless and messy, a large bald patch shining at the top. He looked like he used to be bulkier, but had shed the weight in a short period of time – probably when he had heard the Black was on the loose. His skin was dirty and his eyes were watery. He stared at them all individually, breathing rapidly. He looked to the door, most likely calculating if he could make a safe escape.

"Well, hello, Peter." Lupin said pleasantly as he regularly saw people transform from rat to human on a day-to-day basis. "Long time, no see."

"S-Sirius…" Pettigrew gaped, his voice high pitched and squeaky. "Remus… My friends… my old friends…"

Black's wand arm rose and Lupin gripped it by the wrist, shoving it down. He looked like he did when he would giving Andria a warning for teasing at Snape's greasiness. He turned to Pettigrew, sounding like he was having a casual talk. "We've been having a little chat, peter, about what happened the night Lily and James died. You might have missed the finger points while you were squeaking around down there on the bed –"

"Remus." Pettigrew gasped, sounding rather hysterical. The man was physically sweating. Andria wondered if it was because he was moment from being caught and moments from meeting death. "You don't believe him, do you…? He tried to kill me, Remus…"

"So we've heard." Lupin said, voice turning cold. "I'd like to clear up one or two little matters with you, Peter, if you'd be so –"

"He's come to try and kill me again!" Pettigrew wailed, pointing at black with his middle finger. Andria looked at the accusing finger with wonder but then she saw it. His index finger was missing. "He killed Lily and James and now he's going to kill me, too… you've got to help me, Remus…"

"No one's going to try and kill you until we've sorted a few things out" Lupin said.

"Sorted things out?" Pettigrew asked, voice abnormally high – even for him. He looked around the room wildly, probably trying to figure out some sort of escape route. "I knew he'd come after me! I knew he'd be back for me! I've been waiting for this for twelve years!"

"You knew Sirius was going to break out of Azkaban?" Lupin asked sceptically, brows hunched together. "When nobody has ever done it before?"

"He's got Dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!" Pettigrew shouted, sounding almost desperate. "How else did he get out of there? I suppose He Who Must Not Be Names taught him a few tricks!" Andria seriously doubted that. Her Aunt Bellatrix, one of the most faithful servant of the Dark Lord, was still locked up in there and she was taught everything from him. If she still couldn't get out, then nobody trained under the Dark Lord could.

Black laughed, a laugh that was filthy and cruel that filled the entire room and then some. "Voldemort, teach me tricks?" Pettigrew flinched at the use of the name. "What, scared to hear your old master's name?" Black taunted. "I don't blame you, Peter. His lot aren't very happy with you, are they?" Andria tried her hardest to recall a time when her Father had ever ranted about a Pettigrew when on his rants about the Dark Lord while drinking securely in the midst of his own home.

"Don't know – what you mean, Sirius –" Pettigrew muttered, rapid breathing only getting faster.

"You've been hiding from _me_ for twelve years." Black said with some sort of sneer. "You've been hiding from Voldemort's old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… they all think you're dead, or you'd have to answer to them… I've heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sound like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters' on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And not all Voldemort's supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out there, biding their time, pretending they've seen the error of their ways… If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter –"

"Don't know… what you're talking about…" Pettigrew mumbled shrilly. Andria was definitely not stupid on a good day, she could tell that Peter's arse was probably jealous of all the shit that was currently hurdling out of his mouth at top speed. She wanted nothing more than for somebody to say her full name just so she could watch Pettigrew's reaction to the name _Malfoy_. "You don't believe this – this madness, Remus –"

"I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty in understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat," Lupin said evenly.

"Innocent, but scared!" Pettigrew cried, looking incredibly desperate. "If Voldemort's supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban – the spy, Sirius Black!"

Black's face hardened. "How dare you," he growled. "I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I'll never understand why I didn't see you were the spy from the start. You always like big friends who'd look after you, didn't you? It used to be us… me and Remus… and James…"

Pettigrew wiped at his face. "Me, a spy… must be out of your mind… never… don't know how you can say such a –"

"Lily and James only made you Secret Keeper because I suggested it." Black seethed, voice so full of venom and hatred that Pettigrew actually took a few steps back. "I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they'd use a weak, talentless thing like you… it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters."

Pettigrew started muttered madly to himself.

"Professor Lupin?" Hermione asked shyly. "Can – can I say something?"

"Certainly, Hermione."

"Well – Scabbers – I mean, this – this man – he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. If he's working for You Know Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There! Thank you!" Pettigrew yelped, pointing at Hermione with his maimed hand.

"If you even try to _touch_ her I'll saw your balls off." Andria glowered.

"You see, Remus? I never hurt a hair on Harry's head! Why should I?"

Black decided to take it upon himself to answer Pettigrew's rhetorical question. "Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort's been in hiding for twelve years, they say he's half dead. You weren't about to commit murder right under Albus Dumbledore's nose, for a wreck of a wizard who'd lost all his power, were you? You'd want to be quite sure he was the biggest bully in the playground before you went back to him, wouldn't you? Why else did you find a wizard family to take you in? Keeping an ear out for news, weren't you, Peter? Just in case your old protector regained strength, and it was safe to rejoin him…" Pettigrew mouthed like a fish, apparently having lost the ability to use words.

"Er – Mr Black – Sirius?" Hermione spoke up shyly. Black jumped, looking shocked that he had been addressed with kindness.

"If you don't mind me asking, how – how did you get out of Azkaban, if you didn't use Dark Magic?"

"Thank you!" Pettigrew nodded vicariously at Hermione. "Exactly! Precisely what I –" He resolved into silence with just one look from Lupin. Black was frowning at Hermione, not angrily or annoyed, just frowning with wonder.

"I don't know how I did it." He admitted. "I think the only reason I never lost my mind is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn't a happy thought, so the Dementors couldn't suck it out of me… but it kept me sane and knowing who I am… helped me keep my powers… so when it all became… too much… I could transform in my cell… become a dog. Dementors can't see, you know…" He swallowed thickly. "They feel their way towards people by sensing their emotions… they could tell that my feeling were less – less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought, of course, that I was losing my mind like everyone else in there, so it didn't trouble them. But I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away from me without a wand… But then I saw Peter in that picture… I realised he was at Hogwarts with Harry –" He spared a look at Andria. "- perfectly positioned to act, if one hint reached his ears that the Dark Side was gathering strength again…"

Pettigrew was shaking his head wildly, mouthing nothingness.

"Ready to strike the moment he could be sure of allies… to deliver the last Potter to them. If he gave them Harry, who'd dare say he'd betrayed Lord Voldemort? He's be welcomed back with honours…" Black's eyes glossed over momentarily. "So you see, I had to do something. I was the only one who knew Peter was still alive. It was as if someone had lit a fire in my head, and the Dementors couldn't destroy it… it wasn't a happy feeling… it was an obsession… but it gave e strength, it cleared my mind. So, one night when they opened the door to bring food, I slipped past them as a dog… it's so much harder for them to sense animal emotions that they were confused… I was thin, very thin… thin enough to slip thought the bars… I swam as a dog back to the mainland… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog… I've been living in the Forest ever since… except when I come to watch the Quidditch, of course… you fly as well as your father did, Harry…"

The room fell into momentary silence. Not even Pettigrew spoke. He mouthed like a mad man, sure but he didn't make any actual noise.

"Believe me," Black rasped, looking at Harry. "Believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily. I would have died before I betrayed them." While the topic of Sirius Black's obsession with Andria's mother hadn't come up, Andria could tell that Sirius Black was just an innocent man caught up in too much drama.

"No!" Pettigrew was on the floor, crawling about like an infant. He looked as if he were praying, hands held tightly together, fingers pointed up towards the sky. "Sirius – it's me… it's Peter… your friends… you wouldn't –" Black kicked out a leg at Pettigrew, sending him recoiling.

"There's enough filth on my robes without you touching them." Black snapped.

"Remus!" Pettigrew then wailed, turning to the DADA Professor. "You don't believe this… Wouldn't Sirius have told you they'd changed the plan?" He asked in a last desperate attempt to reclaim his so called innocence.

"Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter." Lupin said, glancing over at Black. "I assume that's why you didn't tell me, Sirius?" He asked casually over the top of Pettigrew's balding head.

"Forgive me, Remus." Black said.

"Not at all, Padfoot, old friend." Lupin said, rolling up his sleeved. "And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing _you_ were the spy?"

"Of course." Black agreed, something like a smile creeping across his corpse like face. He followed in Lupin's steps, rolling up his sleeved. "Shall we kill him together?"

"Yes, I think so." Lupin agreed grimly.

"Do you want in on it, Andria?" Black asked, almost cheekily. "You do know the spell after all, don't you?" She couldn't help but smile a little at his complete personality change. Also, the fact that she didn't see him as a rampageous murderer also helped.

"While, yes, I know the spell, I don't think I have the guts to kill a man. I don't think I ever have, honestly."

"You wouldn't… you won't!" Pettigrew gasped, shuffling over to Ron. "Ron… haven't I been a good friend? A good pet? You won't let them kill me, Ron, will you… you're on my side, aren't you?" Pettigrew's gobbles were pointless, Ron was looking at him impeccably repulsed.

"I let you sleep in my _bed_!" Ron wailed.

"Kind boy… kind master…" Pettigrew haled himself towards Ron. "You won't let them do it… I was your rat… I was a good pet…"

"If you made a better rat than a human, it's not much to boast about, Peter." Blast said hotly. Ron scraped his broken leg from Pettigrew's reach. Pettigrew turned to Hermione, squabbled towards her, grasping at the hem of her cloaks.

"Sweet girl… clever girl… you – you won't let them…help me." Pettigrew pleases. Hermione pulled her robes from his quickly, backing against the wall looking all shades of horrified.

Pettigrew slowly turned towards Andria, eyes watery. "You look just like your mother."

"Shut up about my mother." Andria snarled, getting a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach that this traitorous little beast had known her mother, her birth mother, longer than she ever had.

"The perfect mix of your mother and your father –"

"Well, you'll have all the time in the world to look over good ol' Rabby in your ghost form, won't you? Put in a good word from me, won't you? Tell him that his daughter thinks he's a pompous prick who –"

"Harry…" Pettigrew changed directions, turning slowly to Harry. "Harry… you look just like your father…" Harry didn't defend his father's name from coming out of Pettigrew's mouth. "Just like him…"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY?" Black shouted, eyes flaring with fury. "HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?"

"Harry," Pettigrew whispered, ignoring Black's shouts of horror. "Harry, James wouldn't have wanted me killed… James would have understood, Harry… he would have shown me mercy…" Lupin and Black strutted forwards, seizing Pettigrew by the shoulders and pushing him down onto the floor. He sat there, flinching as he looked up to them.

"You sold James and Lily to Voldemort. Do you deny it?" Black was now shaking too.

Pettigrew burst into loud tears. "Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can't imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you Remus and James. I never meant it to happen… He Who Must Not Be Names forced me –"

"DON'T LIE! YOU'D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!"

"He – he was taking over everywhere!" Pettigrew gasped. "Wh-what was there to gain by refusing him?"

"What was there to gain by fighting the most evil wizard who had ever existed?" Black asked with fury like no other. "Only innocent lives, Peter!"

"You don't understand! He would have killed me, Sirius!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!" Black shouted. Himself and Lupin stood shoulder to shoulder, wand tips pointed at their old school friend.

"You should have realised," Lupin spoke quietly. "If Voldemort didn't kill you, we would. Goodbye, Peter."

Out of all the people Andria would have thought would save Peter Pettigrew's life, Harry Potter never sprung to mind. It should have, though, as before Pettigrew could meet the only fate he was worthy of, Harry bloody Potter had to object. "No! You can't kill him. You can't!"


	29. Chapter 29

"What the hell, Harry?" Andria asked slightly aghast.

"Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents." Black spat, looking at Pettigrew like he was no more than faeces on the bottom of someone's shoe. "This cringing bit of filth would have seen you die, too, without turning a hair. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but Black's right, Harry. Pettigrew deserves to die." Andria said in attempt to sway his decision.

"I know." Harry said breathlessly, looking at Andria for the smallest of seconds. "We'll take him up to the castle. We'll hand him over to the Dementors. He can go to Azkaban… just don't kill him."

"Harry!" Pettigrew gaped, beady little eyes staring at the boy with such awe. He flung his arms around Harry's knees. "You – thank you – it's more than I deserve – thank you –"

"Get off me." Harry spat, kicking Pettigrew's vermin-like hands off of him. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because I don't reckon my dad would've wanted his best friends to become killers – just for you."

Black and Lupin were staring at each other as Pettigrew made strange wheezing noises, clutching at his chest. In one movement, they lowered their wands.

"You're the only person who has the right to decide, Harry." Black said. "But think… think what he did…"

"He can go to Azkaban." Harry repeated. "If anyone deserves that place, he does." Pettigrew's wheezing only seemed to get louder.

"Very well." Lupin allowed. "Stand aside, Harry." Harry looked hesitant. "I'm going to tie him up. That's all, I swear." He promised. Harry stepped out of the way and Lupin did the same thing that Snape did to him, but only to Pettigrew, who wriggled on the floor.

"But if you transform, Peter." Black warned with a growl, pointing his stolen wand at Pettigrew. "We _will_ kill you. You agree, Harry?" Harry nodded clearly at Pettigrew's face.

"Right." Lupin said, sounding incredibly formal. "Ron, I can't mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it's best if we just strap your leg up until we can get you to the hospital wing." Lupin walked to Ron, tapped at his leg with his wand and muttered " _Ferula_." Bandages spiralled up Ron's leg and strapped tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet at once. Ron put his weight down on his leg cautiously, breathing a massive sigh of relief when he didn't feel any pain.

"That's better, thanks." Ron said.

"What about Professor Snape?" Hermione asked quietly, looking at Snape's unconscious body.

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him." Lupin assured, checking Snape's pulse. "You were just a little – _over_ enthusiastic. Still out cold. Er – perhaps it will be best if we don't revive him until we're safe back in the castle. We can take him like this… _Mobilicorpus_." Snape was pulled to a standing position as if he were a puppet on invisible strings. He hung mere inches from the ground, feet dangling. Lupin picked up Harry's Cloak of Invisibility (Andria didn't think she'd be getting over that anytime soon) and tucked it safely into his pocket.

"And two of us should be chained to this," Black advised, poking at Pettigrew with his toe. "Just to make sure."

"I'll do it." Lupin volunteered.

"And me." Ron said, limping forwards. Black conjured heavy chains from nowhere with the flick of his wand. Pettigrew was upright once more, his left arm chained to Lupin's right and his right arms chained to Ron's left. The cat leapt from the bed and led the way out of the room.

Andria let out a laugh. "Bizarre, isn't it?" She asked as slowly, everyone filtered out the room. Somehow, she had been stuck in the middle with Black, wand pointed at Snape, keeping him afloat, Hermione and Harry behind them. "What a strange mix of people. If only my mother could see me now…" She snorted loudly, shaking her head with a large smile. "Or my father. Merlin, my father would go _nuts_ if he knew where I was and who I was with." Andria watched on with amusement as Lupin and Ron walked down the stairs sideways. Black stayed silent, a ghost of a smile on his face. "You caused mayhem in my house, you know." Andria said lightly. "And then my life."

"Little old me?" Black asked mockingly. "The only man ever to break out of Azkaban? Never."

"You don't really want to capture me, do you?" Andria asked. "I was told by my mother and father that I just _had_ to know of my adoption because I needed to know of your previous obsession with my birth mother and that you thought yourself of my true father while having no real biological tie to me."

"I knew your mother." Black answered. "Lovely woman. Didn't deserve what was brought of her. As for my so called… _obsession_ , it's not so far from the truth. Well, I mean, it _is_. But it was returned. We had something short of a thing when we were in school. Not allowed, of course, she was due to marry Rabastan Lestrange." Black 'accidentally' allowed Snape to hit his head off the lowering roof as they walked down the shack's stairs. "She did, eventually. Had to, but I suppose you understand the go about of Purebloods and their marriages."

"More than I'd care to admit, yes."

"Lestrange eventually found out about Marlene's… _harboured_ feelings for myself and that I wasn't about to give up on mines either. In turn, he ordered her and her family's killing."

"My father sounds like a fun guy."

Black let out a small sigh. Andria walked a little slower so he went further ahead.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked quietly. Andria jumped slightly, looking at Hermione slightly startled.

"Me? Yeah, I'm fine."

"It's a small tunnel." She said quietly as Harry stepped up to talk with Black. "I am sorry about your mum."

"Me too." Andria sighed.

They each emerged from the tunnel one by one, nobody speaking much, just parrots of ' _are we there yet?'_ and ' _How far until you reckon we're out?_ ' Without any such mutter of a word, they all set off in direction of the castle.

"One wrong move, Peter," Lupin warned from the front of their queue. The only light telling them that they were heading in the correct direction was the lit windows of the castle that were getting larger as they moved closer.

Or, that was the only source of light until from behind them, a cloud shifted and their path was lit beautifully with the moonlight. Lupin stopped dead. Snape crashed into him, Pettigrew and Ron. Black flung out an arm, effectively stopping Hermione, Harry and Andria from moving on further.

"Why are we stopping?" Andria asked quietly, trying to peer around Black's figure.

"It's professor Lupin…" Harry said quietly, eyes bulging.

"Oh my –" Hermione gasped. "He didn't take his Potion tonight! He's not safe!" Then it all clicked – Snape had only found them because he was giving Lupin his potion to make him a safe Werewolf which he had forgotten to take himself. She was familiar with potions, enough to know that if you didn't follow the guidelines specifically then it wasn't going to work. Lupin was going to be a rabid werewolf.

"Run." Black whispered. "Run! Now!" He said, more urgently.

Had this been last year, Andria wouldn't have thought twice about running, leaving poor Ron attached to Pettigrew and the shifting werewolf but this was now. Andria couldn't move, she didn't have the courage to.

"Leave it to me – RUN!"

Lupin was snarling something vicious. His entire body was transforming into a long faced, tall beast. Black shifted from beside Harry, transforming into his large dog. Black started chomping down on Lup – the werewolf, scratching at it rapidly.

Hermione screamed. Pettigrew was reaching for Lupin's dropped wand, Ron had toppled over and Pettigrew was flicking the wand about aimlessly, bang and sparks erupting from the end like nobody's business.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Harry yelled. Lupin's wand shot in the air and out of sight. "Stay where you are!" But it was too late, Pettigrew had already transformed into his rat form and he was able to run through the chains and cords that bound him together with Ron.

A long, loud howl rang through the grounds, followed by a rumbling growl. The werewolf was running towards the Forest. "Sirius, he's gone, Pettigrew transformed!" Harry yelped at the large, black dog. Black was bleeding and looking seriously injured, but hearing Harry's words he took off across the grounds.

Hermione, Andria and Harry ran to Ron's side. "What did he do to him?" Hermione whispered. Andria grimaced. Ron looked awful, to put it lightly. His eyes were half closed and his mouth was open. The only indication that he was alive was his loud breathing.

"I – I don't know." Andria whispered. "A hex of some kind, I expect. Nothing that a Death Eater would have learned – it's not dark enough. It's possibly some spell that'll we'll learn about in seventh year or something."

"We'd better get them up to the castle and tell someone." Harry said, shoving his hair away from his face. "Come –"

A loud, painful whine from a dog came out of the darkness. Harry, without word, took off in the direction of the woods. "Stay with Ron!" Hermione yelped, running off after her friend.

"Come on, Professor." Andria muttered. "I could really do with you waking up, round about now." Snape didn't wake up. "I don't know any spells." She huffed, turning to Ron. "I'm going to take you up to Madam Pomfrey, now, alright?" Ron didn't give any indication that he understood what she was saying. Andria stuck one arm under Ron's leg, being careful with the broken one, and another under his arms. "Blimey, I'm not as strong as I thought I was. I'll be back for you soon, professor Snape!" Andria called into the darkness, trudging up towards the castle.


	30. Chapter 30

"You're Lucius' daughter, correct?" Fudge asked, looking at her sceptically.

"Yes, Minister." Snape had regained consciousness by the time Andria had managed to get Ron to in infirmary. She had been caught by Dumbledore on her way back down to Snape, insisting that she wait at the outside of his office for the Minister as they had caught Sirius Black. Andria said nothing to him, she could have pled his innocence, but what good would the word of a panicked fifteen year old do against wizards much older and much greater than her?

"How did you – How did you manage to get yourself into that situation?" Fudge asked, aghast by her actions. "Surely your dad would have taught you –"

"I was helping Mr Weasley, actually, Minister. I saw him get attacked by Bl – a black dog. It's the courteous thing to do and try to help them." Andria answered stiffly.

"My God, Miss Malfoy, what were you doing out on the grounds alone? Why weren't you accompanied?"

"I don't like rules that restrict my freedom." Andria muttered. "I just needed some air. I was only out seconds before I saw what made me go down there."

"They are rules for a reason. Had you been down there a second long, Black could have tried –"

"I don't believe that Black would have tried to hurt me, Minister." Andria said sincerely. Fudge scoffed, didn't get to comment as Snape was billowing down the corridors.

"Follow on, Miss Malfoy." Snape said curtly. Andria guessed that Snape wanted to say much more, but couldn't in the presence of the Minister.

Snape told Fudge an exaggerated version of the story, one that made him look like the hero. It was to be expected.

"Shocking business…. Shocking… miracle none of them died… never heard the like… by thunder, it was lucky you were there, Snape."

"Thank you, Minister."

"You were very, _very_ lucky, Miss Malfoy." Andria hummed non-committedly. "Order of Merlin, Second Class, I'd say. First Class, if I can wangle it!"

"Thank you very much indeed, Minister."

"Nasty cut you've got there, Black's work, I suppose?"

Snape cut Andria a nasty look. "As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley and Granger, Minister…"

" _No_!" Fudge gasped, looking through the crack in the door to gaze quickly at the beds where the culprits lay.

"Black bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behaviour. They seem to think there was a possibility he was innocent." Fudge was the one to cut Andria a look, this time, only one of worry. "They weren't responsible for their actions. On the other hand, their interference might have permitted Black to escape… they obviously thought they were going to catch Black single-handed. They've got away with a great deal before now… I'm afraid it's given them a rather high opinion of themselves… and of course, Potter has always been allowed an extraordinary amount of license by the Headmaster –"

"Ah, well, Snape… Harry Potter, you know… we've all got a bit of a blind spot where he's concerned." Fudge said in attempt to possibly make up for Dumbledore's actions.

"And yet – is it good for him to be given so much special treatment? Personally, I try to treat him like any other student. And any other student would be suspended – at the very least – for leading his friends into such danger. Consider, Minister: against all school rules – after all the precautions put in place for his protections – out of bounds, at night, consorting with a werewolf and a murderer – and I have reason to believe he has been visiting Hogsmeade illegally, too –"

Andria felt queasy, this was what her future would be like. Staying quiet while her future husband would chat himself up, downgrade everybody else's actions to boost his own ego.

"Well, well… we shall see, Snape, we shall see… the boy has undoubtedly been foolish… What surprises me most is the behaviour of the Dementors… you've really no idea what made them retreat, Snape?"

"No, Minister. By the time I had come round they were heading back to their positions at the entrances…"

"Extraordinary." Fudge said, in awe. "And yet Black, and Harry, and the girl –"

"All unconscious by the time I reached them. I bound and gagged Black, naturally, conjured stretchers and brought them all straight back to the castle."

"You're looking a little peaky, Miss Malfoy." Fudge said, looking at her with concern. "Have you not been to see Pomfrey?"

"I dropped Ron off and then went –"

"Inside, immediately." Fudge ushered. "Have her take a look at you when she gets the time." Fudge lightly pushed Andria into the infirmary. She stumbled in, the room was dark, and she could barely make out Pomfrey's silhouette. Andria sat on a vacant bed, smoothing out her dress prepared to wait patiently for medical attention.

"Ah, you're awake!" Pomfrey said brightly. She then began to hammer onto the table, something that only increased Andria's forgotten headache.

"How's Ron?" Hermione and Harry said simultaneously.

"He'll live." Pomfrey answered gravely. "As for you two… you'll be staying here until I'm satisfied you're – Potter, what do you think you're doing?" In the dark, Andria could see Harry sitting up and scrabbling about his bedside table.

"I need to see the Headmaster." He said urgently.

"Potter," Pomfrey soothed. "It's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The Dementors will be performing the Kiss any moment now –"

"WHAT?" Harry shrieked. He and Hermione had jumped from their beds and were standing completely alert.

Fudge and Snape filed in, possibly due to Harry's commotion. "Harry, Harry, what's this?" The Minister asked, looking slightly agitated. "You should be in bed – has he had any chocolate?"

"Minister, listen!" Harry pleaded. "Sirius Black's innocent! Peter Pettigrew faked his own death! We saw him tonight! You can't let the Dementors do that thing to Sirius, he's –"

Fudge was shaking his head, a condescending smile on his face. "Harry, Harry, you're very confused, you've been through a dreadful ordeal, lie back down, now, we've got everything under control…"

"YOU HAVEN'T!" Harry yelped. "YOU'VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!"

"Minister, listen, please." Hermione said, rushing to Harry's side and looking at Fudge pleadingly. "I saw him, too. It was Ron's rat, he's an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and –"

"You see, Minister?" Snape said knowingly. "Confunded, both of them…. Black's done a very good job on them…"

"WE'RE NOT CONFUNDED!" Harry screeched.

"Minister! Professor!" Pomfrey said furiously. "I must insist that you leave. Potter is my patient, and he should not be distressed!"

"I'm not distressed. I'm trying to tell them what happened!" Harry defended himself angrily. "If they'd just listen –" Pomfrey cut Harry off by shoving a slab of chocolate into Harry's mouth. A medical expert, she is. He choked, naturally, and Pomfrey seized him back to bed.

"Now, _please_ , Minister, these children need care. Please leave –" Pomfrey was cut off, not by a slab of chocolate being stuffed into her mouth, but by Albus Dumbledore swanning in through the doors. Harry was up on his feet again in a flash.

"Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black –"

"For heaven's sake!" Pomfrey cried hysterically. Andria knew that if there was one thing that she liked most was a quiet, peaceful infirmary. "Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster, I must insist –"

"My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr Potter, Miss Granger and Miss Malfoy." Dumbledore said calmly. "I have just been talking to Sirius Black –"

"I suppose he told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" Snape asked with a curtness to his voice. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive –"

"That, indeed, is Black's story." Dumbledore said, inspecting Snape with a close eye.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" Snape asked, sound slightly outraged. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

"That's because you were knocked out." Andria stepped in, deciding to put in her tuppence worth.

"Exactly!" Hermione agreed enthusiastically. "You didn't arrive in time to hear –"

"Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!"

"Now, Snape." Fudge said, sounding slightly startled by Snape's rudeness. "The young lady is disturbed in her mind, we must make allowances –"

"I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione and Andria alone." Dumbledore said abruptly. "Cornelius, Severus, Poppy – please leave us."

"Headmaster!" Pomfrey gasped, aghast by Dumbledore's request of her to leave sickly patients in need of her attention. "They need treatment, they need rest –"

"This cannot wait, I must insist."

Pomfrey puckered her lips sourly and glided to her office at the end of the ward, slamming the door shut tightly behind her. Whether this was to show her discontent for leaving patients unattended or because the door never closed right unless you slam it with force would forever remain a mystery.

Fudge picked out his golden pocket watch that dangled from his waistcoat, looking at the time. "The Dementors should have arrived by now, I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs." He walked to the door, holding it open politely for the man he had walked in with but Snape hadn't moved an inch.

"You surely don't believe a word of Black's story?" Snape whispered, looking at Dumbledore intently.

"I wish to speak with Harry, Hermione and Andria alone." Dumbledore repeated, not giving Snape an answer. Snape, eager to get the reply he longed for, took a step towards the Headmaster.

"Sirius Black showed he was capable of murder at the age of sixteen." He breathed. "You haven't forgotten that Headmaster? You haven't forgotten that he once tried to kill _me_?" Andria wanted nothing more than to chip in that Severus Snape too, had shown his capabilities of murder by joining forces with the Dark Lord at round about the same age, probably had committed actual murders to innocents, too, which Sirius Black hadn't done. As far as Andria knew, anyway.

"My memory is as good as it ever was, Severus." Dumbledore said quietly. Snape turned on his heel, marching out of the door, discontent with the fact that he had not received a single answer from the Headmaster.

As soon as the door shut, Hermione and Harry burst into conversation about tonight's events. Their voices overlapped and intertwined so frequently that Andria had a hard time comprehending what they were both saying and she had experienced the events first hand.

Dumbledore held up a single hand and immediately silenced them both. "It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time." He said lowly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word – and the word of three thirteen and fifteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potter' Secret Keeper."

"Professor Lupin can tell you –" Harry said, ignoring Dumbledore's request of no interruptions.

"Professor Lupin is currently deep in the Forest, unable to tell anyone anything. By the time he is human again, it will be too late, Sirius will be worse than dead. I might add that werewolves are so mistrusted by most of our kind that his support will count for very little – and the fact that he and Sirius are old friends –"

"But –"

" _Listen to me, Harry_. It is too late, you understand me? You must see that Professor Snape's version of events is far more convincing than yours."

"He hates Sirius." Hermione tried desperately. "All because of some stupid trick Sirius played on him –"

"Sirius has not acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady – entering Gryffindor Tower with a knife – without Pettigrew, alive or dead, we have no chance of overturning Sirius' sentence. "

" _But you believe us_."

"Yes, I do." Dumbledore confirmed silently. Snape would be so mad if he had heard this. "But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister for Magic… What we need," Dumbledore said lowly, looking over Harry and Hermione, "is more _time_."

But –" Hermione started, but soon stopped, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping. "OH!"

"Now, pay attention." Dumbledore said lowly, clearly. "Sirius is locked in Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. But remember this, both of you." Andria felt very suddenly left out. " _You must not be seen._ Miss Granger, you know the law – you know what is at stake… _you – must – not – be – seen._ " Dumbledore turned to Andria, eyes sparking something magnificent. "You know, Andria, sometimes the best thing somebody can be is an eyewitness. They're the key to breaking the case. Give the innocent their freedom." Andria mustered up a smile and a little nod, having no idea what Dumbledore was on about. "I am going to lock you in. It is –" he looked to his watch, "five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Harry repeated as the door closed behind Dumbledore. "Three turns? What's he talking about? What are we supposed to do?" Hermione wasn't paying attention to Harry, but instead was paying attention to the back of her robes. From beneath them she pulled a very long, thin golden chain. Hanging from it was a small, glistening hour glass. Andria's eyes widened.

"I've only read about those." She said in awe. "Is that –"

"Yes." Hermione admitted with a slight blush, but not of embarrassment, it was something short of pride. "Harry, come here, _quick_!" Hermione ushered. Harry moved to her, looking completely mystified. "Here –" She threw the chain around his neck. "Ready?" She asked breathlessly.

"What are we doing?" Harry asked, slightly panicked. Hermione fiddled with the hour glass and then they were gone.

The door opened again and there stood Hermione and Harry, looking as happy and as breathless as ever.

"I get it!" Andria said loudly, eyes widening. "I'm the witness! You two never even –"

" _Shh_!" Hermione shushed quickly, sealing her lips with her finger. Andria nodded, biting her lower lip. The lock for the door clicked behind them. Hermione and Harry silently crept back into their beds as if nothing had happened, as if they hadn't just gone back in time.


	31. Chapter 31

"Did I hear the Headmaster leaving?" Pomfrey asked, striding out of her office looking much more madder than she had done moments ago. "Am I allowed to look after my patients now?" Harry and Hermione picked up their chocolate and began nibbling away at it, Pomfrey looking at them intently to make sure not a crumb escaped from their mouths.

As they accepted their fourth piece of chocolate, a loud, distant roar of anger could be heard from above them. "What was that?" Pomfrey asked in surprise, looking around wildly for the source of the loud noise. The loud, angry chattering was getting closer. Pomfrey starred at the door, she had located the noise source. "Really?" She asked with disbelief. "They'll wake everybody up! What do they think they're doing?"

"He must have Disapparated, Severus, we should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out –"

"HE DIDN'T DISAPPAREATE!" Snape yelled, sounding frantic. The voices were getting considerably closer. Andria sat back, lifting her legs onto the bed, looking at the door with raised brows. "YOU CAN'T APPARATE _OR_ DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!"

"Severus, be reasonable, Harry's been locked up –"

The door bust open with a loud _bam_. If Pomfrey wasn't mad before, somebody harming her work place was sure to send her through the roof.

Dumbledore, Snape and Fudge each walked into the ward, Snape looking at each person on a bed with glowering eyes. Dumbledore looked impeccably calm, even as if he were enjoying watching a member of his faculty get so riled up. Fudge looked mad and Snape – Snape looked beside himself with rage, if it wasn't glaringly obvious from his angry shouts.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER!" Snape screeched. "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"Professor Snape!" Pomfrey shrieked, looking absolutely appalled. "Control yourself!"

"THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!" Snape pointed at Harry and Hermione furiously. He was literally drooling – he resembled a mad dog quite a bit.

"Calm down, man!" Fudge clipped. "You're talking nonsense!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER!" Snape howled, sounding more like a wolf than Lupin did. "HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT –"

"That will do, Severus." Dumbledore said calmly. "Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madame Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?"

"Of course not!" Pomfrey said, foaming with anger. "I've been busy with them since you left! Unless they managed to escape and return in the five second time gap between you leaving, Headmaster, and me entering! Miss Malfoy, did these two student manage to perform such miraculous activities?"

All eyes turned to Andria. "Of course not, Madam." Andria said passionately. "That would be ludicrous."

"Well, there you have it, Severus." Dumbledore said. "Unless you are suggested that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

Snape was still furious, staring at Fudge who looked rather appalled by his behaviour, and Dumbledore who was dawning twinkling eyes like usual. He gave up with a growl like sigh and swooped out of the ward.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced." Fudge said, staring at the doors. "I'd watch out for him if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced. He's just suffered a severe disappointment."

"He's not the only one!" Fudge huffed. "The _Daily Prophet_ 's going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that Hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughing stock! Well… I'd better go and notify the Ministry…"

"And the Dementors?" asked Dumbledore. "They'll be removed from the school I trust?"

"Oh, yes, they'll have to go." Fudge muttered, running his fingers through his hair. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the kiss on an innocent boy… completely out of control… No, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight. Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance…"

"Hagrid would like that." Dumbledore said, smiling at Hermione and Harry swiftly before exiting, Fudge hot on his tail. Pomfrey followed them too, but only stopped to shut the door and lock it, she muttered furiously to herself the entire time as she walked back to her office.

A low moan from the opposite end of the ward disrupted Andria from her almost peaceful slumber. She sat up, peering into the darkness at Ron, who was now rubbing the back of his head and looking around.

"What – what happened?" He asked groggily. "Harry? Why are we in here? Where's Sirius? Where's Lupin? What's going on?"

"You explain." Harry said to Hermione, helping himself to more chocolate.

"Good idea." Andria said quietly, stifling a yawn. She reached over to the bedside table, grabbing at the large goblet and taking a small swig at her potion. "You guys catch him up and I'll – I'll just go to sleep." Andria lay back down, kicking the covers over her and nestling into her pillow.

" _Malfoy_?" Ron asked into the darkness. "What are you still doing here? I thought you would have left as soon as Lupin turned –"

"Careful, you." Andria muttered sleepily. "I was the one who dragged you up here to safety all on my own. You have me to thank for the non-permanent brain damage."

"Wait, _you were the_ –"

"Let's start from where you left us, alright?" Hermione laughed, sounding truly happy to be alive. "Let's let Andria sleep."

"For that idea." Andria grumbled, dozing of happy into a dreamless slumber.

/ / /

Andria was booted out of the Hospital Wing the next morning just before breakfast by Madame Pomfrey who was still angry about the ruckus. She was kind about it though, checked Andria's temperature and made a light joke about how she should have charged her for rent, but considering she was still angry her joke came out a little harsher than it needed to be, but Andria knew where her heart lay.

"Stayed with Pomfrey, didn't I?" Andria said, already fed up of the interrogations that followed with breakfast.

"We went there." Meredith said with her eyes narrowed. "She said she hadn't seen you in ages."

"I asked her to say that. I just – I just needed head space, you know? I had just seen my father for the first time since the _news_ and I couldn't wrap my head around it quick enough. I needed some space to figure things out."

"And?" Elizabeth pressed, looking at Andria with sad eyes. "Have you figured anything out? If you feel weird about it, you can stay with me, my mother _adores_ you."

"I think I'm okay." Andria muttered, looking over to the teachers table, catching Dumbledore's eye and smiling. "I was just caught off guard yesterday, is all. I didn't expect to see him until term ends."

"Regardless, the offer is always there, okay?" Elizabeth said earnestly. She reached across the table and took Andria's hand. "You're my best mate, Andi. I don't want to not be there for you again, you're stuck with me for –"

"Did you hear, Malfoy?" A sixth year asked, leaning over the table to get a look at Andria. Her heart seized in her chest, wondering if he knew about her activities the previous night. "Lupin's a ruddy werewolf!" Andria's mouth dropped. "Snape told us all this morning in the Common Room, shame you had to miss it. You've been close with him all year, haven't you?"

"I – I was." Andria stuttered. She quickly decided to play off her shock as to Lupin being a werewolf and not at the fact that Snape is a lowlife that just _had_ to tell everyone. "A _werewolf_?" She forced herself to shudder. "I – I feel sick. Fuck, he could have bitten me at –"

"So he never told you?" The sixth year asked, looking deeply displeased.

"Of course not." Andria huffed. "If he did, do you think he'd still be here?" Her glare was enough to scare off the gossiping student. "Blimey, why didn't you guys tell me?"

/ / /

In the middle of lunch later that day Andria slipped away from the Slytherin table filled with students from her year all cramming for their History of Magic exam. Well, the same could be said for the majority of the other tables but the other Houses weren't watching Andria like a hawk, thinking that she knew very well that Lupin was a Werewolf and had helped him to conceal his secret. She didn't lie to them as such, she claimed that she had no idea of his condition and took the liberty of throwing in a few derogatory slurs to make it extra believable. It had worked for the most part, people believed that she didn't know jack about Lupin's little secret but it didn't stop them from being suspicious. Ah, the many perks of being a Slytherin.

The corridors were more or less deserted, just a few students who had snuck away for a pre-exam snog session by the scenic windows or students running towards the library to try and get any information crammed into their brains. If anyone saw her, they didn't care much, allowed her to roam the halls without so much as a glance which made sneaking to Lupin's office much easier.

She didn't bother knocking, maybe he still had possession of that map he and Harry had been talking about the previous night – the one with the moving dots.

She half expected Lupin to be attending to the Animagus wounds left by Black on his werewolf form, possibly rubbing in some dittany or some Pomfrey-subscribed potion or lotion.

What she didn't expect was to see Lupin stacking piles of paper into a trunk. Now, Andria is no idiot, she knows the uses of a trunk. They're used for extended stays and are only packed when going on holiday or school or returning from it. Considering that school was just about over it was highly unlikely that he was packing for it. But it was a little early to be packing for home, too. Unless, of course, he was leaving prematurely.

"You're leaving?" Andria asked abruptly, not bothering to announce her presence.

"Andria." Lupin said, sounding rather surprised. Like he didn't expect to see her again.

"Why are you leaving?" Andria asked aggressively, closing the door behind her securely.

"I assume you know about Professor Snape's little slip-up." Lupin mused, looking a little defeated regardless of his attempted joke.

"I heard it from my friends at breakfast. I would have come by earlier but everyone just assumed I knew, they were all watching me like hawks and I couldn't risk ripping apart my reputation." Lupin stayed silent and Andria cringed, realising how awful that sounded. "I didn't mean it like that." Andria said quickly. "I just meant that reputation – especially _now_ – means everything. If people saw me going to speak to you they'd assume that I'm a sympathiser, which I _am_ , but they can't know that."

Slowly, the corner of Lupin's mouth turned upwards into a smile. "You know, your mother said almost the exact same thing to me when she found out about my condition..."

Andria's eyes bulged out her head. "You – You knew my mother personally?" It probably wasn't a huge leap – Marlene had a thing with Sirius and Sirius and Lupin were friends. It was an easy conclusion that Andria probably should have made almost immediately.

"Marlene and I were good friends." Lupin said shortly. "I must admit, at the beginning of the year I thought you were nothing like her, that being brought up by the Malfoy's had stopped you from resembling your mum in any way other than looks."

"And now?" Andria asked hesitantly. Secretly, she could feel herself yearning to be anything like her mother. She'd obviously know first-hand what she was like herself which would mean that she was one step closer to knowing what her mother was truly like.

"I think the turning point was after you found out. Your attitude changed – you were isolated from your friends and you adapted yourself to being alone. You didn't kick up a fuss when you were asked by Professor Snape to tutor Fred Weasley."

"George." Andria corrected absently, her stomach stirring and for the first time in ages, it wasn't negatively. "I tutored George."

"Oh, that's right." Lupin muttered, eyebrows creasing slightly. "I always get them mixed."

"I think my views were stirred before I found out." Andria said quietly. "When you kept me back after class ages ago after I poked at Wilson, you asked me if I thought Purebloods really were superior."

Lupin hummed thoughtfully. "So I did."

"You used the term _we_."

"Well, yes." Lupin said, rather hastily. "Shouldn't have I?"

"No." Andria answered bluntly. "Because you're not a Pureblood." Lupin looked down into his trunk of papers almost shamefully. "And I was fine with it. I knew you weren't the second you asked _that_ question." Lupin didn't asked for further details, but Andria took it upon herself to give them to him anyway. "The first thing any Pureblood is taught – fanatic or not, especially during the first war – is that you don't ask about someone's views. You just don't. Non-fanatics were taught that during the war because it could save them from getting tortured. Fanatics were taught that because we assume. We assume until told or shown otherwise. It was also a handy way to catch out the imposters." Lupin still remained quiet and unmoving. "Professor?" Andria said quietly, taking a step closer to his desk. "Are you alright?"

Lupin slowly looked up with a deep frown. "I have to admit, I am rather ashamed of myself for lying about that. Or even asking in the first place."

Andria shrugged. "Don't stress about it, sir."

"Don't you have an exam to be getting to?" Lupin asked, brows raised, suddenly getting into teacher mode. "They won't let you in if you turn up late."

Andria's eyes flicked lazily up to the clock hanging lopsided on the wall and shrugged. "I have fifteen minutes."

"You need to get back undetected, if you want to do that I do suggest that you go now before someone sees you." Lupin tapped his fingers on a piece of parchment on his desk as if he were making a point.

"My friends will assume that I've went for a bit of self-studying or that I've went to talk to George – he finished his potions practical a little while ago but I still haven't seen him to ask how it went."

"You're friends are actually wondering around the castle."" Lupin said knowingly.

Andria rolled her eyes. "Yeah? And how do you know that? Do you have a secret eye that can…" she trailed off, suddenly recalling the map. "You can see them on your charmed map, can't you?" Lupin nodded, turning it around and pushing it towards her.

"There, you see?" Andria stepped forward and looking at the map with awe. It was everything she thought and more, it had surpassed all of her expectations. Lupin was point at two circular dots labelled _Walker, Meredith_ and _Greengrass, Elizabeth_ parading around the library. "I think they may be looking for you."

"They probably want some last minute tips." Andria muttered, too engrossed with the map to make any form of commitment to the conversation Lupin was apparently wanting to have. Her eyes scanned over every inch of the castle, lingering over the Infirmary where Harry, Ron and Hermione were still cooped up. Her gaze floated towards Lupin's office and swanned up and down the corridors – it was completely empty.

" _Mischief managed_." Lupin whispered, tapping his wand against the map. Slowly, all of the dots and outlines slithered away leaving an empty piece of parchment. "I don't want to be responsible for you not being allowed to enter your History of Magic exam." He said to Andria's pout.

"Well maybe I just don't want to leave." She said boldly, sticking her hands on her hips. "If I leave I can't return. This is the last time I'll ever see you."

"In a few days you'll have forgotten about your ratty old fourth year Defence Teacher." Lupin said with a small smile. "When I was a student the Defence teachers were constantly coming in and out in a string, I can't remember most of their names. I doubt you'll remember –"

"Stop it." Andria huffed. "I don't _want_ to forget your name. You were the only person who treated me like they did before they found out I wasn't actually a Malfoy. You were the only person to see me for a person and not a blood type and family line. For a good few months _you_ were the only one to show me compassion and kindness." Andria could feel herself getting rather sad. "Do you _have_ to leave?"

"Compassion and kindness isn't hard to find." Lupin said quietly, purposefully avoiding her question. "If you look in the right places, you'll find it."

"I've never been good at finding the right company." Andria said stiffly and regrettably, making her hear twinge, all she could think of was Meredith, Lewis and Elizabeth. She felt like a terrible friend. Meredith was kind at heart, she'd give up the right side of her body for a friend. Lewis was the first of the Slytherin's to talk to her and started a chain reaction, he was putting his reputation and most likely his _life_ on the line just so Andria could appease her parents. Elizabeth was her friend of many years, she was cold and stubborn but to Andria she was reborn – wonderful, hilarious and had a heart of galleons.

But Meredith was hypocritical – she expected everyone to follow and enforce the rules while simultaneously allowing her to disobey them. Lewis was undoubtedly prejudice and didn't mind showing it, he went overboard with it, too and he wasn't afraid to bring up the whole "two fathers two mothers" fiasco, not caring much about Andria feelings in the process – just as long his voice and opinion was heard. Elizabeth didn't hesitate to leave Andria when she was needed most despite yearning and craving Andria's attention when something mediocrely bad happened to her.

Whether Lupin had intended to reference her friends or not would never be confirmed but it sure as hell made her think. Andria had shown and received more compassion, kindness and instinctive protectiveness towards and from Harry and his friends that she had received from her own friends in all of her fourth year – hell, probably all her _life_.

"You will." Lupin said with a small smile. "In due time. You'll find people who give more than they take."

"I'm not a particularly patient person." Andria huffed, folding her arms across the fabric tight across her chest. "Wil you – Will you write to me?" She asked timidly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, I understand how that would be weird, writing to an old pupil, but I think I'll need help navigating myself towards the right people."

Lupin's eyes gave a slightly sparkle as he smiled the best he could with a large gash down his face. "I'll write to you."

Andria grinned for the first time since she entered Lupin's class.


	32. Chapter 32

On the final day of term, Exam results were issued to all the students which was refreshing. Andria had managed to receive near perfect marks in all of her classes except Divination. That was predictable, of course, most likely the only thing Andria had ever predicted and she didn't need a glass ball or her palms to figure that out. George had passed potions with a sturdy E. Andria was over the moon as was the man of the hour, rubbing it (quite literally) in his brothers face, who had only received an A.

The House Championship, much to Slytherin's dismay, went to Gryffindor and the hall was painted with red and gold. Andria chose to ignore the colour of décor and opted to have a good time, laughing and joking with Meredith and Elizabeth like they had done at the start of term feast way back in September.

In the morning, the girls hauled their trunks to entrance hall the next morning after a rejuvenating breakfast, loosening their robes to let the spring breeze cool them down. Andria hadn't seen Lewis all morning and she wasn't opposed to that, spending the day with her two best friends and dorm mates seemed more than ideal. They watched and giggled as the mounds of students piled into the hall coming to the end of a year. Seventh years were crying into each other's shoulders, even Gryffindor's and Slytherin's were embracing, reluctant to let the past seven years leave their clutch.

Hagrid called for the seventh years, taking them down to the boat hut true to the traction of arriving to Hogwarts for the first time in boats and leaving Hogwarts for the last time in the very same way.

Moments after the Seventh years had departed, Filch had gathered them, screeching about staying in a single file, when nobody listened, he took to slinking back into the depths of the castle and allowed McGonagall to take over.

"Exams next year." Meredith said sullenly, staring outside the carriage window, head lolled against the window. " _Proper_ exams. Exams that mean something."

"We're going to get actual grades." Elizabeth chimed in, looking positively horrified. "Not just a pass or a fail. Actual _letters_." Andria snickered into her hand. "Don't you laugh!" Elizabeth exclaimed looking wildly panicked. "We're going to be the example setters! I'll never be able to look in the mirror if Daphne or Astoria get better grades than I do!"

"By all means then, Liz." Meredith quipped coolly. "Fail them all. You'd be doing yourself a favour by not looking in the mirror at your ugly –" Elizabeth took her wand from her robes and pointed it half-heartedly.

"Quiet, you." She huffed. "My mum will personally murder me if I don't get more than an E." Elizabeth started eyeing Andria up. "Wouldn't mind tutoring _me_ in potions, would you? I need all the help I can get. Mum's going to be furious I failed."

"I really don't think she'd care, Lizzy." Andria shrugged. "What are we going to do with our qualifications anyway? Tell the House Elves about them when we're old, grey and delirious?"

"Why not? They'll have no choice but to listen to me…"

"I think I'll be a healer." Meredith said confidently. "Yeah. But I'd like to work at Beauxbaton's. While Hogwarts is pretty, there's a certain allure about that place, don't you think?"

"Oh yeah." Andria snorted. "Your future husband will be positively _thrilled_ about your choice to work. Only spending about two months at home each year. Where will the time for reproducing go?"

"Right up his arse." Meredith said smugly. "If he wants kids then _he_ can care for them." The carriage slowly pulled to a stop and the Hogwarts Express came into sight.

The ride back was nothing special, especially not compared to the last time she was on the train with the Dementors and the fear looming over everyone that Sirius Black was an escaped mass murdered. Well, the fear was still _sort of_ there considering he had never actually been captured but Andria knew he was innocent so at least her fear had been lifted.

Half way through their journey home, however, Andria made an escape into Harry's compartment, slamming the door shut behind her, smiling at the perplexed looks on Hermione, Harry and Ron's faces. "Hello." She said brightly.

"Hi." Harry greeted uncertainly.

"Your legs looks better." Andria noted, scanning down Ron's leg. "Pomfrey certainly knows her stuff."

"Yeah." Ron agreed awkwardly.

"I just wanted to see how you guys were doing." She said, suddenly feeling slightly awkward and stupid for going there. "I haven't really had the chance to ask. Everyone thinks I was in on Lupin's secret which I technically _was_ but only for a few hours. I suspect they're all waiting for me to make one wrong move."

"You thought that you'd slip away undetected _here_?" Harry asked with disbelief. "On a crowded _train_?"

"Admittedly that does sound rather stupid." Andria mused. "But Meredith and Elizabeth have fallen asleep, I _think_ Campbell is on an entirely different carriage and God only knows where Draco is but he's avoiding me like Dragon Pox so I doubt he'll notice I'm gone." Andria brushed her hands down the front of her dress almost nervously.

"How, uh, how have _you_ been since…?" Hermione asked timidly as if she was unsure of how Andria would react.

"I've been well." Andria said with a nod. "Yeah, I've been doing alright." The compartment resolved into an awkward silence. "Um, will you guys be attending the Quidditch World Cup this summer?" She asked, trying to get the conversation going. She didn't particularly want to leave.

"I'm hoping to go." Harry said eagerly, eyes going hungry for a ticket. "It depends if the Dursley's allow me, though."

"I hope they do." Andria smiled, having no clue who the Dursley's were. "Will you two be going?" Andria asked, turning her attention to Ron and Hermione.

"Yeah." Ron answered, eyes lighting up. He didn't elaborate anymore.

"I'm unsure, I'll have to ask my parents." Hermione answered, looking at Andria with slightly slit eyes as she mentioned her Muggle parents.

"If I see you guys there I'll say hello." Andria promised. She decided to ignore the reluctant look in Ron's eyes. "I'll be going now." Andria said after a second. "It's nice to know you're all doing well. Have a good summer."

"You too." Harry said with a smile. "Goodbye, Andria." Something in Harry's voice made it sound like it was the final time he'd be saying her name and addressing her directly.

"Bye, Harry." Andria grinned, slipping out of their compartment.

Back at Kings Cross Station, the train slowly pulled to a halt and Andria's stomach filled with dread. Noticing, Elizabeth grabbed onto Andria's hang and gave it a small squeeze. "I'll be fine." Andria said firmly. "I'm just being silly."

"I can go with you, if you want." Elizabeth offered quietly as Meredith hurled out of the compartment with anticipation and excitement. At least someone was excited to see their parents. "Narcissa loves me. I mean, I can understand why." Elizabeth grinned and laced her fingers through Andria's. holding her hand properly. "You'll owl me if you can't handle it, won't you?"

"I told you, Liz, I'm just being stupid." Andria sighed, removing her hand and brushing it through the ends of her hair. "All that's changed is that I'm not actually related to them. They still love me the same. I'm just blowing this out of proportion." Elizabeth analysed her for a few moments before getting to her feet.

"Come on, Andi." Elizabeth said softly. "Let's go before the train leaves with us still on it." Andria nodded, standing up and flattening down the back of her dress. Her stomach was churning and not from the excitement that she had felt this time the previous year when walking off the train at the end of her third year.

The two girls helped each other with their trunks, hauling them from the racks above their heads. Elizabeth left the train first, Andria so close to the back of her trunk that she'd occasionally kick it. She could feel her heart physically throb as she watched Meredith in a tight embrace from her mother.

"I can see them." Elizabeth announce, looking over the bobbing heads of the frantic and enthusiastic students reuniting with their equally enthusiastic parents or guardians. "Our parents are standing together." Andria joined Elizabeth in looking over the heads, eyes landing upon their mothers, both of them child free and most likely gossiping like usual. Their fathers were talking seriously with each other and Andria didn't allow herself to wonder what about. "Come on, let's go greet them." Andria mustered up a smile, picking up her trunk and towing it after Elizabeth.

The short walk to Narcissa, Lucius and Robert and Charlotte Greengrass was the most nerve-racking experience Andria had ever been through and she had been inside the shrieking shack with a convicted felon. Neither Draco, Astoria nor Daphne had arrived yet, they were probably bidding farewell to their friends and pet dog (some call her Draco's girlfriend but Andria would be the first to beg to differ).

Andria was right to assume that Draco was bidding goodbye to Pansy. Her hands were on his shoulders and she was pouting something horrendous. Andria couldn't stop herself, loudly she pretended to throw up, grabbing the attention of the small huddle of her and Elizabeth's parents. "My eyes!" She whimpered, clutching at her chest.

"You've always been one for dramatic flair, you have." Elizabeth snickered. "And here I was, thinking you were all shades of nervous."

"I _am_." Andria said forcefully. "I just don't cop very well with nerves. That was the only way I could think of getting their attention without actually getting –"

"Andria." Narcissa said carefully, her eyes hopeful. "How – How have you been?" She was obviously trying to keep herself together in the face of company. Andria had never been so grateful for the company of elite, prestigious and extremist purebloods.

"I've been good." Andria smiled, stepping forward and embracing her mother tightly. It felt sort of refreshing, the hug of a mother after all she had been through. A great big sigh of relief in the form of human contact. "How have you been?" Andria asked into her mother's shoulder.

"I've missed you so much." Narcissa breathed into Andria's hair, tightening her grip as if she were trying to make sure Andria was still real, that she wasn't going to fade away any time soon.

"Both ways." Andria muttered, trying to sound honest. She didn't really miss Narcissa as such, she missed the ignorance she had allowed her to have, yes, the ignorance to her adoption, the ignorance that comes with being a Malfoy. She didn't miss her being, everything she stood for and, in turn, made Andria stand for. She guessed that, in a way, since early November she had villainized both Narcissa and Lucius, made them out to be monsters for keeping her from the truth. But it wasn't how you make a werewolf, a person who is human and can feel emotions all month except for one night where they lose control at the pull of the full moon, into a criminal and a villain, in essence, the events of early November had opened Andria's eyes to the bigger picture. Lucius and Narcissa were by no means nice people, Lucius used his power over the Ministry to manipulate the world around him to fit him and his family best. The Malfoy's had and will never have any redeeming qualities apart from the love they held for each other, but that alone isn't enough to give them redemption. In a way, Andria was pleased she wasn't bound to them by blood, in a way she was learning to accept that not all bad thing are necessarily just bad, sometimes they're good beings in terrible disguises.

/ / /

 **A big thank you to LeeForShort and Barby03 for your lovely reviews, they are very much appreciated and I thank you both dearly for taking time out of your day to comment, much love to you both.**


	33. Chapter 33

_Andria,_

 _Due to my condition, I struggle to hold down a job which means I move around a lot. Your owl is smart, so I guarantee if you just write my name on the envelope Tabitha (is that her name?) will surely find me._

 _I truly hope that you aren't allowing the adoption to get in the way of you having a good summer._

 _The Quidditch World Cup is soon and I'm assuming you'll be attending?_

 _Regards, PRJL. (I'm hoping you now who this is otherwise we'll have a terribly awkward time)_

Andria grinned, tracing the tip of her finger over the words. It had been the first letter she had received in three weeks – Meredith had flown back to Australia for the summer (although it's their winter) and would be returning two days before term starts, missing the World Cup, and Elizabeth's parents had surprised her and her sisters with a trip to Egypt and the cost of sending an owl was apparently ridiculous but Andria was assured that Elizabeth and the rest of the Greengrass family would be back in time for Andria's ball. Almost immediately, she leapt up from her bed, scanning around her very minimalistic room for any sign of ink – her quills were on her desk, remained there since last summer, but the ink she had taken to school and was all used up. Realising that she'd be finding no ink within the proximity of the four walls of her room, she exited her room, stepping over the recently placed plate of breakfast foods and strutted down the hall, busting into Draco's room without so much of a knock. "Hey!" He objected loudly from his bed where he was reading a leather bound book. Andria recognised it from the library downstairs which contained either biographies of famous wizards or very complex potion books (Lucius' own collection, the lot of it) neither of which Andria thought he'd find particularly interesting but apparently in the three weeks she'd barely said anything to him, he had changed drastically. "I could have been changing!"

"Well, you're not." Andria huffed, riffling through his drawers by his desk. They were filled with the most random of things – broken quills, string, bouncy balls, spare sheets of parchment and the likes. "Have you got any ink? I need to write a letter and I've got none."

"Who are you writing a letter to?" Draco asked nosily, placing the book down on his bed. "Campbell, perhaps?"

"What's this long piece of string for?" Andria asked, continuing her rummaging and ignoring Draco's accusation and question altogether. "For taking your girlfriend out on walkies?"

Draco didn't object, just snorted loudly, twisting himself of his bed. "It's here, you berk." He murmured, picking up a pot of ink from on top of his desk, the one Andria was looking through.

"Oh." She said quietly. "I would have been able to see it if your desk was _clean_. Seriously, you slob, when was the last time you put anything away?"

"Whatever." Draco muttered, returning to his bed and his reading – or that's what he wanted Andria to think but she could see that his eyes weren't moving from the middle of the page. It was like he was watching her closely, almost inspecting her without actually doing it. She didn't know why she hadn't expected this, she had been, after all, isolating herself from everyone in the household. She had attended a whole of two meals at the dinner table since she came back from Hogwarts and on both occasions they had guests over from the Ministry or people from the Pureblood Community claiming that they were wanting to catch up, but in reality Andria could see them all staring at her, watching to see if she'd crack. She didn't, just to spite not only the dinner guests but Lucius and Narcissa. Building up their hopes of her turning to her normal routine of dining with them once again only to lock herself away in her room all night and walk around the acres and acres of ground they owned alone. It truly was the perfect plan – Andria didn't have to sit with them or be near them unless she chose to and it annoyed them to no end. There was really no down side. "Are you joining us for lunch, later?" Draco asked through the silence.

"No." Andria answered abruptly. "I was just going to walk to the apple tree with a sandwich and a few books. Make a day of it."

"Alone?" He asked, barely lifting his eyes from his book. "I could join you if you want. I've got some potions homework I need to do and you can help me."

"Can't." Andria declined. She fiddled with the ink bottle in her hands. "I'm rubbish at potions."

"You managed to get Weasley Twin One an _E_ , I heard." Draco said, almost smugly. "That doesn't sound rubbish to me."

"So that piece of string," Andria said, changing topic "do you tie it around Pansy's neck and use the ends as the lead or to you attach it to some collar? I'm just curious." Draco huffed, tugging a pillow out from behind him and lobbing it at Andria. It bounced off her softly, landing on the floor with a sad _flop_. "Ouch." She said dryly. "That hurt. How will I ever repair not only my broken bones but my broken heart?" She bent down and picked up the pillow. "Get a better aim and maybe next year we can win the Quidditch cup."

"No Quidditch this year." Draco said as Andria threw his pillow back to him. He caught it lazily, placing it next to him unenthusiastically. "Although, you'd know that if you left your room once in a while."

"Well, I'm out now, aren't I?" Andria said, feeling rather intrigued. "Why is there no Quidditch?"

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament is taking place." He said with a smug smile. "At _Hogwarts_." He frowned when Andria didn't seem as enthusiastic as he'd hoped. "You do know what it –"

"I'm not an idiot." Andria said with an eye roll. "I know what it is. It's just not my thing. I don't care much for three wizards facing near death in a stadium. Seems… _boring_."

"Oh yeah, watching three wizards battle dragons, large snakes and the likes with only a wand to defend them seems like such a bore."

"You can do a lot with a wand." Andria shrugged. She shook the ink lightly in her hand. "Thanks for the loan, don't expect much of its return."

But Draco had other plans that didn't include her leaving. "Wait!" He said quickly with a sense of urgency. Andria turned on her heel, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. "Today's Sunday. Tomorrow's Monday."

"Congratulations, did Mother _finally_ teach you the days of the week?"

"Shut up." He muttered, lacking venom and heat. "The Quidditch World Cup's tomorrow." He stated, looking at Andria hopefully. "You bought two tickets, claiming the other was a friend but I don't want to spend the day with Goyle for _obvious_ reasons, father will probably include him in his slaughters, and Crabbe gets annoying after a while, Nott is already going with his father and Zabini is too stuck up to spend an entire day with. Mother and father have already got tickets so I was wondering if you'd like the –"

"Pansy. Why aren't you taking her?" Andria interrupted.

"She doesn't understand Quidditch. She thinks it's _easy_. And she's scared of heights so the seats we have – it doesn't matter why I'm not inviting her." Draco shook his head trying to get himself back on track. "I was wondering, like I was saying before you interrupted, if you'd take the other ticket. We can all go together. Me, you, mother and father. It would feel wrong to invite someone else, you did buy the tickets yourself –"

"I didn't get you anything for your birthday." Andria interrupted bluntly. "They lied to you." Draco face noticeably slumped. "But I'll attend. And I'll buy you a few things from the stands to make up for the lack of birthday joy."

"Okay." Draco said, nodding his head with a small smile, proud of his achievements to break through to Andria – something Narcissa and Lucius had failed to do all summer. "We're leaving in the evening. Just before dinner. We'll have dinner there, mother said she was cooking –"

"How terrible." Andria cut in wryly. "You do realise she'd never cooked in her _life_ , right? Why isn't one of the House Elves coming?"

"No reason." Draco said coolly. "Father doesn't want them scared, that's all."

"Scared? Of a few flying guys on brooms and balls hurling around the place?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm not a House Elf. I don't know what they're scared of."

"I'll take extra money so we can get food somewhere else if mother's attempt is a complete catastrophe." Andria ran a hand through her hair. "If you need me I'll be in my room, I should probably pack. Write a few letters. Do a bit of homework. Thanks again for the ink."

"No problem."

/ / /

The location was marvellous. Tents crammed tightly together, families crowded around a burning fire, small children whizzing about on mini brooms away from their worrying mothers, Andria trying to compact the contents of her evidently burned food to look like she had eaten more than she actually did, bright wildflowers circling each tent, and the true spirit of community.

"I think I may have used a little too much salt." Narcissa commented with a slight frown. Andria had to bight her tongue from commenting.

"I think it tastes nice." Lucius said trying to boost his wife's ego, failing tremendously as it was an obvious lie.

"I think I tasted something like this at school back in my second year." Andria commented lightly.

Narcissa visibly perked up. "Really?" It was well known that the food served at Hogwarts was tremendously gorgeous – anyone being told that their food was in the same league was most likely a top chef.

"Yeah. Remember when I was ill just before exams, Draco?"

Draco nodded cautiously. "Uh, yeah?"

"It tastes like my vomit did."

"Andria." Lucius hissed sharply. The corners of Draco's mouth were twitching upwards.

"Okay, maybe not so acidic, but still pretty similar."

"There should be stalls with food." Narcissa said with a sigh, propping her head up with her hand, fingers pressed against her forehead. "I have money in my purse – take about ten galleons."

"Each?" Andria asked, looking at her mother with raised brows.

" _Between you_." Narcissa said sternly, lifting her head and pushing her plate out of reach. "Bring some back – your father and I will need to eat."

"Come on, Draco. I saw a few stalls with the _greasiest_ foods. Chips, hot dogs, fried frog's legs…"

"At least _try_ to make healthier options." Narcissa said, eyes blazing at the thought of having to eat foods lathered in all types of grease and oils. It was so unbecoming of a respectable Pureblood woman to eat those. Think of the _calories_.

"Pretty sure I saw some sticky toffee apples, too. It's charmed so that you get toffee with _every single bite_. Even after you get past the apple skin." Andria grinned as she walked out of the tent, Draco trailing behind her with something like an amused smile.

"Do you ever think that it was a waste of time and energy?" Narcissa asked absently, eyes glazing over as she stared at Andria's previously occupied seat. "We told her in fear of _Black_ getting to her and he never touched a hair on her head…"

"We had to." Lucius said stiffly. "Dumbledore said. _Threatened_ , really."

"She's got so much… hostility towards us, now. Acting like we're the bad guys. We only wanted her to fit in." Narcissa frowned, flicking her fingers and the two now vacant chairs tucked themselves into the table. "This is the first time since _last summer_ that we've eaten a meal together – just the four of us…"

"It was her choice not to return for Christmas." Lucius said pointedly. "Draco said he tried his hardest to convince her otherwise."

"She used to be so… so _easy_. Did what she was told, didn't ask questions, didn't challenge us, didn't try to _rebel_." Narcissa looked to Lucius with a small glare. "And it probably didn't help much, you shoving that damn list down her throat."

"What do you expect the world to do? Stop and wait while she gets over her teenage strops? Nobody's getting any younger – we planned this with the Greengrass'. Elizabeth and Andria are meant to go in stages _together_ so they can confide with each other and do what _girls_ do. Andria skipped ahead and now everything's ruined."

"You could always ask Rhona Campbell to put that boy Andria's been seeing on the –"

"Not a chance in _hell_." Lucius seethed. "Besides, I've already asked. She declined. Apparently no female suitor is willing to marry – what's his name? Darren? Derek? Dawson?"

"Dennis." Narcissa answered blandly.

"Yes, yes, _him_. Apparently nobody is willing to marry him."

"Any specific reason? He's not a murderer, is he? We can't have our daughters reputation being tainted by a –"

"No, no, not a murderer. He was left at the altar."

"A man?" Narcissa asked, gasping like it was the biggest scandal she had ever heard of. " _He_ was the one jilted?"

"If my sources are correct, which they most definitely are, yes."

"Whatever did he do? Surely he couldn't have been _that_ bad? He must be a murderer, I'm sure of it."

"Actually, his fiancée committed suicide. Twenty minutes before the wedding was due to take place."

"Mentally unstable?" Narcissa guessed, face slightly screwed up. "I can understand why. The entire process of finding an eligible bachelor is draining."

"Like you would know." Lucius said coolly. "And she was perfectly fine, so her father says. She just didn't like him very much. Apparently he was rather _forceful_."

"Force – No. Get him off the list _immediately_. Right this instant, write to the Campbell's and revoke that _boys_ name from Andria's list. I will _not_ have a man responsible for the suicide of his previous fiancée dancing with her this summer. I don't want him to _touch her_ , I don't want him to _look at her_ and I certainly don't want him within _oxygen sharing space of her_."

"Previous _two_ fiancées, actually. He was eighteen when the first one offed herself –"

"– At least be a _little_ more sensitive of the dead, Lucius!"

"– was quickly re-engaged within four months, the Campbell's passed off the first ones death of mental instability. When he was twenty he was set to marry again and she killed herself, too. Only she did it a few days before the wedding. It was much harder to pass this off, though, _obviously_. I talked to the father of that fallen bride ad he said the same thing. The boy's very forceful. Knows what he wants and takes it, doesn't care about anyone but himself."

"Oh, this just keeps on getting better, doesn't it?" Narcissa snapped. "I will _not_ have my daughter be the third innocent girl to fall victim to his hands and feel that there is no other escape the to kill herself!"

"Andria's strong, she'll –"

"No." Narcissa cut in sharply. " _No_. Absolutely not. Cancel the arrangement right now."

"Oh, I'm not going to let Andria pick that wretched little excuse of a human." Lucius said with a very heavy eye roll. "I just made it seem like we were interested. The Campbell's will be good allies. Having that boy on her list will secure the ties. It's not my fault if she doesn't pick him, isn't it? I'll say that I'll put in a good word about her boy to a few other fathers – members of the Twenty-Eight. We'll be allies for life."

Narcissa stared at her husband with wide eyes. "This isn't eighteenth century France, Lucius! We don't need to create allies! You're a damn _Malfoy_! I was a _Black_! How much more allies do we need? Two of the oldest wizarding families, we have allies that date back _centuries_. Allies that we don't even know about because they're so old!"

"Doesn't hurt to make new ones." Lucius said stubbornly.

"No." Narcissa said sternly, rising from her seat. "Call it off with the Campbell's _right now_. Or I'm calling this off." Narcissa said, pointing a finger between the two of them before walking off. Lucius just rolled his eyes, knowing the threat was hollow and empty.

Regardless of that, he summoned ink, a quill and a piece of parchment and began writing.


	34. Chapter 34

"Ireland are definitely going to win." Andria said matter-of-factly as they bustled through the crowds in the stadium, attempting to make it up to where the Minister had invited to Malfoy's to sit. Why, she didn't understand, but she was getting a sick thrill at the thought of how mad her father would be when he finds out that she had already met Fudge in person. Having to conceal the level of anger he would be feeling was going to be _hysterical_.

"How do you know?" Draco asked, edging around an elderly man. "You don't even _like_ Quidditch."

"Statistics, little brother. Ireland have a _fantastic_ clan of people in their team. They're going to win hands down."

"But have you _read_ of Krum? He's fantastic."

"One good player doesn't mean they're going to win. Don't be naïve." Andria tutted, lifting the front of her royal blue, light-weight dress as they walked up yet _more_ stairs. "How much _bloody_ longer?"

"Not long now, I promise." Narcissa said, although she looked rather aggravated by the thought of having to walk another metre.

"You said that three flights of stairs ago." Draco complained. "Is it much longer, father?"

"Didn't your mother just say there was not long to go?" Lucius snapped, prodding at Draco's lower back with his cane.

Draco squirmed, walking up the next few stairs at a quicker pace to escape the prodding. "I just _assumed_ you'd know the exact length of time."

"Drop the attitude." Lucius scorned silkily. "Having to deal with one moody teenager throwing tantrums constantly is enough, your mother and I don't need the stress of you acting up, too."

"Moody teenager? Throwing tantrums?" Andria repeated, her voice going up by at least two octaves. "Excuse me, but the two of you essentially tore me out of my simple life by the hair and did it insensitively. By a _bloody_ Howler? You could have at least waited until Christmas."

"We wanted to." Narcissa said quickly. "We weren't allowed. We were given a time frame."

"Well then, you could have at least pulled me out of school and did it face to face! And maybe given Draco, here, some sensitivity training. He only went and blurted out that Sirius _bloody_ Black wanted to kill me in front of an entire Common Room of Slytherin's! I was ignored for _months_." At the shocked silence that followed and Draco's tinted red cheeks that _weren't_ from climbing the miles of stairs, Andria smirked. "Left _that_ out of your letters, didn't you?"

"Is there more you haven't told us?" Narcissa asked sharply.

"No!" Draco squawked. Lying, obviously, unless he told them that he had her by the ankles in the air by some spell so the entire Common Room (which was again filled to the brim) could possibly catch a glimpse of her knickers. Draco turned to Andria, looking at her with pleading eyes as if he were begging her to say no more.

"Oh, this could be fun." Andria mused with a grin. "I bet there's plenty more that you haven't told dear old mummy. Oh, yes, this is _great_ blackmail material. I can have fun with this."

"If you have any information, tell it _now_." Lucius demanded, 'accidentally' clipping the back of Andria's heel with his cane.

"Ouch." Andria huffed, skipping over a step to escape the wrath of the cane. "No. I'm keeping this for blackmail. And you can peer into the back of my head for ages, but I'm not letting you in. Wasn't – Wasn't it _your_ idea that mother train me in Occlumency at the age of four and up?"

"This one." Lucius grunted as they came to the top of the stairs – the top of the entire stadium. Andria breathed a sigh of relief along with Draco. "Best seats in the entire stadium." Lucius practically boasted, which was useless, as he was talking to his family who would be with him, sharing the same experiences. His bad mood had appeared to have disappeared. They edged along the second row, along to the vacant four seats. Fudge's eyes seemed to brighten as he caught Lucius' eye, Andria didn't even want to know _what_ he had done to earn those seats. She found herself crammed between her father and Draco – a, quite frankly, terrible seating plan. At least, if she were sitting with Narcissa, she'd have somebody to be bored with and talk about things they had in common. Instead, she'd be sitting by a man pretending to be all goody goody with the presence of the Minister and an over excited boy child who would stop when the team he roots for ultimately loses. It's all sorts of tragic, really.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a familiar mop of orange – or _two_ mops of orange. Followed by _other_ mops of orange, brown frazzled hair and a bush of frizzy hair. Andria smiled pleasantly at the Weasley's, Harry and Hermione as she walked past them.

"Ah, Fudge." Lucius said smoothly, shaking hands firmly with the Minister. "How are you?" It was rather impressive seeing the works of a Pureblood man in process. "I don't think you've met my wife, Narcissa? Or our children, Draco and Andria?"

"How do you do, how do you do?" Fudge greeted, bowing to Narcissa. "Andria, how have you been keeping up since…?" Andria knew immediately what he was hinting at and the look of astonishment on Lucius' face was worth all the gold in her vault.

"I've been well, Minister." Andria smiled, taking his outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. "It's lovely to see you. Again." Andria added with a wide, dazzling grin.

"Again?" Lucius couldn't help but ask, brows creasing ever so slightly. "So you've – you've met before, then?"

"Oh, yes. You didn't tell your dad?" Fudge asked, eyes widening slightly. "We met the night – _Black_ –" Fudge whispered the alleged murders name as if it would scare off his guests "was caught and then… well, you know the rest of the story, don't you? Andria was one of the unlucky ones to be there in Black's unveiling. She was very brave, your girl, very brave indeed." Whenever she recalled that night she never felt that anything she did was brave, stupid, yes, but definitely not brave. She suspected that Fudge was probably lying to play right into Lucius' vault.

"It must have slipped her mind." Lucius said stiffly, eyes flaring. Andria could feel Draco's wide eyes on her as she smiled at the ground, she was completely right – Lucius' reaction was _totally_ worth it.

"You shouldn't worry about her starting to keep secrets, though." Fudge laughed merrily. "It was a terrible traumatic time for her, I'll bet, probably needs some time to wrap her head around it…" Lucius gave a tight smile, turning to look at Andria briefly. "Allow me to introduce you to Mr Oblansk – Obalonsk – Mr – well, he's the Bulgarian Minister for Magic, and he can't understand a word I'm saying, anyway, so never mind. And let's see who else – you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?"

Andria could feel dread pool at the pit of her stomach as she recalled George's words from their first proper encounter.

" _It's a your dad had a fist fight with my dad last year and you stood by and did nothing. It could also fall under the category of your family look down on my family_."

She could still remember feel distinctly guilty when he said that the first time. He was right, the Malfoy's did look down on the Weasley's because they were apparent "blood traitors" and "muggle fuckers". Andria was determined that, if anything were to happen in the Top Box for the duration of the Quidditch match, she'd step in. Andria considered herself briefly lucky as Lucius said nothing, just looked Mr Weasley up and down judgingly, and while this wasn't exactly the height of manners, it wasn't exactly a fist fight in Flourish and Blotts either. He ruined it by opening his mouth, obviously he was frazzled by his revelations on Andria and wanted to put his anger elsewhere for the time being. "Good Lord, Arthur." Lucius said softly. "What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn't have fetched –" Lucius was cut of sharply when Andria accidentally on purpose tread on his toes. He looked at Andria with a furious scowl.

"Sorry." Andria said quickly. She turned to Draco and glared wildly. "You didn't _have_ to push me, did you?"

"What? I didn't even touch you." Draco said, glaring back with just as much heat.

Andria turned to Lucius, rolling her eyes heavily. "There he goes with his lies again, Father. He should _really_ see someone about that. It's tragic, really, such a bright boy spending his days lying all the time. You should really refer him to –"

"Okay, that's quite enough, Andria." Lucius said softly although his eyes were hard and sharp. "When you become a Healer, _that's_ when you can give medical opinions on your brother."

"Of course, but my opinions are just as valid now. What if this is pathological? What if it's _genetic_?" She said pointedly.

"We'll live." Lucius said curtly as the Minister turned back around to face them with a smile.

Fudge then turned to Mr Weasley, offering him and his clan the same friendly smile. "Lucius has just given a _very_ generous contribution to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He's here as my guest."

"How – How nice." Mr Weasley said with a forced smile. Andria really couldn't blame him.

"Budge aside, won't you?" Andria asked quietly, turning to Draco. He obeyed silently, pressing the back of his legs to the chairs, allowing Andria to squeeze past. Getting past Narcissa, however, was an entirely different situation, not nearly as easy.

"Where exactly do you think you're going, young lady?" She asked under her breath sharply. "If you think you can make a clean get away to avoid… _precautions_ and disciplinary actions for keeping your… your _involvement_ with Black a secret then –"

"Oh, mother. I was only ending what you started. Remember how you and father kept my involvement with Black on the down low? Well that was me just returning the favour by ending it. You can thank me later, surely, I am, after all, my mother's daughter, aren't I? I take after you, you should be positively bursting at the seams – maybe I truly am your daughter." Narcissa bore a cold glare, folding her arms across her chest and not moving.

"While we may not share blood, do your best to remember that I _chose_ to raise you as my own, Andria. You are no less a Malfoy than you were this time last year. Do yourself a favour and follow Draco to our seats."

"I need to pee. I was on the way to the toilets and unless you want me urinating all over the place in front of many, _many_ people including the Minister for Magic of not only the UK but _also_ Bulgaria then I suggest…" Andria trailed off, looking at Narcissa with raised brows. With an impatient sigh, Narcissa stepped to the side, allowing Andria to shift past her, and she did so wordlessly, reaching the end of the row of seats and weaving herself in and out of the masses of people trying to get to the stairwell.

When she did eventually arrive, she heard large amounts of cheers, wolf whistles and hooting coming from every level of the stadium. It was probably the Veela that she had read about – Bulgaria's mascot. She closed her eyes and let out a shallow breath, sitting down heavily on a purple carpeted step. That had been enough family time to last her all summer.

"Are you alright?" A voice asked, placing a hand on Andria's mesh covered arm. She raised her head, eyes widening as she was staring into the face of Fred Weasley.

"Oh, me? I'm perfect, thanks." She said quickly.

"I didn't give up Veela to be lied to, y'know." He said with a small smile, taking a seat by her.

"You can go back, I'm not going to stop you. I just – I just needed a little air, is all. I'm alright, really." Andria insisted, twirling a strand of her poker straight hair around her finger.

"Nah, Veela are more Georgie's thing. He has a thing for pretty women." Fred said with a shrug, giving her a look of significance but the supposed significance had been lost on her. Andria didn't know what to say, so she settled on a smile and a nod. "Thanks for what you did back there, by the way." Fred said sincerely. It had to be the first time she had ever seen one of the twins be so serious. "Thanks for getting shoved into your dads foot."

"My pleasure, really." Andria grinned. "I wasn't light either. When wearing heels like these bad boys, all of your weight can just magically go onto one foot, you know?" She stuck a foot out from her dress and waggled it about, showing off her glittering silver wedge.

"Can't say I do know what it's like, but I'll take your word for it." Fred said with a small smile. The pair resolved into silence, listening to the swooning of the men and women over the irresistible Veela. "I hope everything's okay at home with you, you know." Fred said softly after a few minutes. "George and I could see you and your mum getting snappy at each other, but you two were talking so quietly it made it hard to hear…"

"Everything's… as to be expected." Andria settled, unable to find a fitting term. "I'm giving them a bit of a hard time, though, so snapping is… well, it's _as to be expected_."

"Will you get into trouble for it?" Fred asked nosily. Andria didn't mind that he was sticking his nose into where it wasn't supposed to be – it felt rather nice to talk to an unbiased party. Meredith would encourage her to rebel even further, Elizabeth would try to calm her down and make her see sense even though there _was_ none and Andria couldn't imagine going to Lewis with problems like this.

"They're practically begging for my attention." Andria shrugged. "They may be angry now, but they won't shout. At me, at least, I don't really know where the anger goes. Maybe they burn some butterflies or something…"

"I did think that the butterfly population was going down." Fred said sullenly. "You're going to have to stop pissing off your parents – I happen to like butterflies."

Andria let out a little laugh. "I'll keep the wellbeing of the butterflies in mind the next time I actively seek to piss them off."

"Thank _Merlin_." Fred said with a great sigh of relief. "If there's no butterflies then who's going to eat the decomposing corpses?" At Andria's slightly alarmed and shocked look, he nodded enthusiastically. "They do that, you know. Or something like that, I don't know, I read it somewhere I think. Or maybe I made it up to annoy Percy – he's my brother, by the way."

"You? Annoying somebody? Wow, that's _so_ out of character for you." Andria snorted.

"I know! But seriously, though, if you ever feel the need to… piss off your charming dad go on a walk or something. Clear your head – think of the butterflies, Andria. Think of the butterflies."

"I've spent all of my summer walking. I can confirm that I have now explored every single _inch_ of my families grounds. And they're big grounds. There's a maze and everything." Andria said, although she wasn't boasting. Or if she was, she certainly didn't intend to do so. "But I'll definitely give thinking of the butterflies a go. I'll see if that calms my unquenchable thirst for destruction."

"We should probably get in, now." Fred said as Ireland's mascots (they were Leprechaun's!) were encouraged into the stadium. "The match will be starting soon." Andria nodded, getting to her feet and wiping off the back of her dress. "You go on in first. People may talk of our heated snogging session if we walk in together." Fred teased with a cheeky grin.

"In your dreams, Weasley, but I shall take you up on your offer of walking in separately. I have to think of the butterflies from now on, don't I?" Andria flashed him a toothy grin. "Thanks for the chat, by the way, definitely lifted my spirits."

"No problem." Fred said, returning the smile. "Now go on, get in before the butterfly population suffers."

/ / /

 **I'd like to make note that, for some reason, I'm not getting e-mails when people review on this story which is all shades of aggravating. Anyway. Onto the reply!**

 **Barby03:** Did Lupin write the letter to Andria?  
 **Thank you for reviewing, you lovely person, you! And to answer your question, yes, Lupin was the author of the letter Andria received. PRJL stands for Professor Remus John Lupin, I feel like he put the 'P' in just to make it a little clearer as she only knew him by his last name, otherwise. Also, I think he'd be really cautious while writing to a little girl so he'd sign off with his initials. His lack of reluctance to write to her, I think, is because he was friends with her mother who is, as you've read, dead and I have a suspicion that poor Remus wouldn't have stuck his head out to make more friends, leaving him lonely. Writing to Andria is as much therapeutic for him as it is for her.**


	35. Chapter 35

"I _told you_ that Ireland would win, didn't I tell you that Ireland would win?" Andria flaunted, feeling truly joyous, her insides warm and fuzzy.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Krum caught the snitch though, so he's still –"

"Far better than you." Andria said slyly. "But don't worry, pea brain, maybe one day your time will come to shine…"

"Ha ha." Draco said dryly. "You're hilarious."

"And don't I know it?" Andria asked grinning. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, tugging him close as they bustled through the crowded grounds towards their tent. "I want to remember this moment forever. The time I predicted that Ireland were going to win. I feel truly content, nothing shall ever ruin this for me when I'm on my death bed, looking back at us, right here, right now. It includes all of my favourite things. Proving you wrong, winning and… yeah, that's about it."

"How much have you had to drink?" Draco asked, eyebrows slightly raised, sounding a little bit teasing, but more so serious. Andria wasn't sure if it was because he truly thought that she had alcoholic tendencies or he was fitting into his Pureblood male persona snuggly at the early age of fourteen.

"Only pumpkin juice, I _promise_. I'm just happy, aren't I allowed to be happy?"

"Definitely." Draco said quickly, stuffing his hands into his pockets as they walked, Andria's arm still around his shoulders.

"I've decided that I want to be more happy. I want to be happy _all of the time_. It's so exhausting being tragically sad constantly. Feeling happy is… it's euphoric. And I won't be happy for much longer, so I may as well live it up now."

"You can be happy with… whomever you end up with. It won't mean it's the end of your life." Draco attempted to console, but the opinion of the male Pureblood species is always irrelevant, especially with topics like marriage.

The walk back to their tent was filled with light chatter and old memories, Andria's arm never left his shoulders and, eventually, Draco's arm went around her waist. They hadn't been this close since before Andria went off to Hogwarts.

The touching sibling moment died out as soon as they entered the tent, Andria could see from the cold look in both Narcissa and Lucius' eyes that she wasn't going to get off lightly for keeping her business with Black on the down low, they had most likely stopped yearning for her affection and was hitting her from a different angle; tough love. Or maybe it was just the tough bit seeing as that's what they did best. Not even the sight of their children being as close as they had been when they hadn't reached double figures yet was enough to distinguish the fire in their eyes.

"Draco, go to your room." Narcissa said lightly although her voice held kilograms of authority that he was crushed under.

"Good luck." He muttered, untangling himself from Andria and scattering to his room within the tent. Narcissa waited until the curtains acting as a door slid shut before she flicked her wand at it.

"Do you find it amusing, Andria?" Lucius asked darkly. "Hiding the fact that you were there with that _Potter_ boy the night Sirius black was captured and then later escaped miraculously?" Andria stayed quiet, twisting her hands behind her back. _Think of the butterflies, think of the butterflies_ she chanted in her head, staring at her parents with a blank look. "Do we need to remind you why Sirius Black is such a threat to you?"

"We do _everything_ we can to keep you safe, and you repay us by frolicking with a mass murderer? A mass murderer who, no doubt, wants to idolise you like he did with Marlene McKinnon? For the four year I attended Hogwarts with them, and I have never seen a man so pathetically obsessed with a woman like Black was with her." Andria continued to stare ahead blankly as Narcissa lectured. If Binns were to ever decide that teaching wasn't what he wanted to do anymore, Andria had just found a suitable replacement. Narcissa's long talks were enough to put _anyone_ to sleep. "Are you listening to me, Andria?"

"Yes." Andria answered blandly. Narcissa raised her brows. "Yes, _mother_."

"Better." Narcissa rose from her seat, crossing the length of the tent to stand in front of Andria, cupping her face gently. "We only want the best for you, sweetheart. Everything we do is in your best interests, do you understand?" Andria gave a meek nod, knowing that everything that Narcissa had just said was true. Yes, everything they did they probably had Draco and Andria on their minds but having horribly askewed views diminishes any sentimental feeling that sentence once held.

"We're not below physical punishment." Lucius piped up. "You've been stepping out of line for far too long, Andria, you should count your lucky stars that you haven't been at the receiving end of a punishment that can only be deemed suitable for your behaviour."

"Why didn't you tell us about your encounter with Black?" Narcissa asked, dropping her hand from Andria's face. "Did he tell you not to? Did he hex you?"

"No and no. The Ministry take your wand once you're imprisoned, you know that. He didn't do much talking. We weren't even with him for a long time before the Dementors swarmed us. He didn't even really look at me. I don't think he knew who I was."

"Understandable." Narcissa said quietly, nodding her head. She let out a meek sigh. "I wish you would have told us, Andria, you could have saved our family the embarrassment of finding out publically."

"I didn't tell you because I knew you'd both act like this." Andria said impatiently, bringing her hand to her head and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger.

"And what, pray tell, Andria, are we acting like?" Lucius demanded. "Concerned parents? Does that bother you that we actually care about your wellbeing?"

"I was going to say something like _obsessive_. But if you think concerned is a synonym, then by all means, use it." Andria dropped her hand from her nose and waved it through the air passively. "And as for public embarrassment to this family, mother, why aren't you lecturing father over his _very public_ spat with Mr Weasley in the presence of the Minister himself? I found that highly embarrassing."

"I _knew_ Draco didn't –"

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?" Andria demanded. Not even thoughts of butterflies could keep her anger at bay. "It's not ' _becoming_ ' of me to interrupt, is it? That would have probably been more embarrassing than you publically demeaning another _Pureblood_ wizarding family –"

"You're defending a family of _blood traitors_?" Lucius practically screeched.

"The way they think can be changed, can't it? The beliefs of anybody can be altered under the right circumstances. You're not only ridiculing him because he thinks Muggle's should be interacted with but also because he hasn't got much galleons in his vault! Do you not realise how utterly _ridiculous_ that –"

"Get out of my sight." Lucius growled, eyes going dark. "Now."

"What? Lucius, think, my darl –"

"Out of my sight, Andria!" Lucius snarled, snapping up to his feet and looking at Andria with wild eyes. Narcissa went quite after being interrupted by her obviously fuming husband. "How _dare_ you speak to me in that way! Go on! Leave!"

"What a damn _blessing_." Andria snarled. "Best thing you've given me in _ages_. Second best to –"

"Lucius, _think about what you are doing_." Narcissa said, punctuating each word. " _Think about your actions_."

Lucius visibly slumped, collapsing back onto the small armchair. "Go to your room, Andria." He sighed impatiently.

"I thought you wanted me out of this tent?" Andria challenged, eyes flaring dangerously.

"You'll leave this tent when your mother goes to collect you, do you hear me? Go to your room."

"I want some water." Andria said abruptly, snatching the small, empty bottle from the table just under a metre away from her. "I'm going to get something to drink."

"Did you not –"

" _Let her_ , Lucius." Narcissa snapped. "Don't you think you've said enough?" Narcissa turned to Andria with a look in her eyes that had probably, at one point in Andria's life, meant that she cared for her. "Return soon, alright? We're leaving at nine on the dot – you've got an hour to get your water and come back."

"Yeah." Andria muttered. "I'll be back by then." She turned around briskly, exiting the tent swiftly, head held high as she started walking to the communal water pump.

It was fair to say by minute fifty five, that Andria had no clue the layout of the campsite. She still hadn't managed to find anything resembling a water pump and she had fifteen minutes to get back. This wouldn't be a problem, getting back, that is, had she only known what campsite she belonged to or what direction she had come from. It was beginning to grow slightly dark and the singing and celebrating of the Irish, while it had started off amusing, had grown irritating. She kicked a pebble on the ground sourly, wanting nothing more than to take her heels off and feel the grass tickling against her feet but judging by the amount of broken bottles and the law that stated clearly that no wizard under the age of seventeen should perform magic, she'd have to live with aching feet until she returned.

"Stupid Ministry." She muttered, kicking yet another stone. "Stupid water pumps." Another stone soared through the air. "And most of all, stupid. Fucking. _Parents_." Three stones flew in different directions. Andria continued walking aimlessly, looking around trying to find _anything_ that looked even remotely familiar, but having been walking around aimlessly for the past fifty five or so minutes, everything had begun to look vaguely familiar.

The gentle sound of struggle and sloshing two minutes later, now at minute fifty seven and positive that her mother would be absolutely furious for not returning on time, was absolutely _joyous_. She followed the sound and within mere seconds, she was met with a rather lengthy queue in front of an overworked water pump. Immediately, she went to the end, her body flushing with some sort of relief. At least she wouldn't die of dehydration.

It took Andria twenty minutes for her to reach the pump and by then it seemed that the entire premises of the stadium and its grounds had run completely and utterly silent. Not a sound was heard, everyone behind her in the queue was silent, looking around quizzically, nobody daring to utter a single word as Andria pumped water into her bottle. Once done, she stepped to the side, allowing the next person in line to fill their bucket. She looked around cautiously, taking a small sip of the cooled, refreshing water. The rapid sound of wings flapping drew her attention to the sky, large flocks of all kinds of birds were soaring through the space above, away from the stadium. Andria frowned, screwing the cap onto her bottle and resuming the walking that she had been doing before the water line.

Out of nowhere and hurling at full speed, a man barrelled into Andria, almost knocking her to the ground. "Geez, thanks, you bumbling _moron_!" She called over her shoulder to the man who carried on with his running, not even pausing to apologise. "What a prig." She muttered, rubbing at her shoulder where the man had accidentally struck her.

She started walking again, peering into the distance where the sun shone vibrantly. She had never seen a sunset like it. It was magnificent and a gorgeous colour of orange. She could see it flickering vaguely in the horizon, probably blurred by the campfires of the World Cup attendees. She smiled, her heart flooding with a calming warmth before her body ran cold again. She spun around 180 degrees, staring at the _other_ sun, the one that was not as nearly as defined as the one which she had been ogling at before. She frowned deeply, an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach. _Two_ suns? Unless the other one wasn't a sun… She looked down from the sky to where the crazed man had run off into the distance. She turned back around to the vibrant, mysterious sun, eyes widening when it appeared to be getting only larger, like it was engulfing the earth.

The eerie silence was broken by loud, petrified screams and the sounds of feet slapping against the dirt floor. As if she was being struck by a tidal wave, masses beyond masses of people were suddenly running towards her at full speed and within seconds she was emerged in the large crowd of frantic people. She was shoved around mercilessly, people shouting at her to "get out of the way, if you know what's good for you!".

"What – What's going on?" Andria asked loudly, hoping that she'd get an answer from any member of the crowd.

"Death Eaters!" Came a muffled voice. Andria's heart lurched. "What are you doing, you stupid girl? Get a move on!" Andria didn't have time to, she was hurled to the ground, and the crowd didn't seem to care, many jumped over her, didn't offer her as much as a helping hand, and there was one particular bloke, a bit on the heavy side, who decided that he knew _exactly_ what Andria needed – his foot collided with hers, crushing her bone underneath his shoe. Her foot gave a sickening crunch and she couldn't help but scream with pain. It was nothing she had ever felt before, she couldn't wiggle her toes and when she tried it only caused more pain.

Even in her state of agony nobody gave a damn, they didn't trample or jump over her, at least, just pretended like she was invisible, running around her.

It took five minutes before someone grabbing her roughly by the waist, hauling her up to her good foot. "Bloody hell, Andria, what were you doing on the floor?" Came the ridiculed voice of George Weasley.

"Oh, I'm just having a grand old time looking at the bug! Eugh, I got trampled on, didn't I?" She sniffed, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. She was positive that her mascara and eyeliner, which had both been done to _perfection_ , took ages, too, was running down her face.

"C'mon, George!" Someone said from beside the only compassionate person in the entire campsite. "We've got to get a move on!" Andria peered past the tears, looking at Fred, who was holding onto the hand of a girl a little smaller than him, ginger hair and a terrified look on her face. Andria recognised her to be their little sister; Ginny Weasley.

"I'm gonna have to pick you up, alright?" George said, voice coddled with care. "We need to be quick so those scumbags don't get us. Is that okay?"

"Of course." Andria sniffed. George wasted no time slotting his arm under Andria's legs, scooping her up. She let out a muffled sob as her feet dangled, wrapping an arm securely around George's shoulder.

"Sorry." George winced. He was now able to move a lot quicker now that he didn't have to support Andria with her hobbling. They reached the outskirts of the woods in no time, the twins and Ginny's breathing levelling out as they could now walk calmly.

"That was… _eventful_." Fred sighed, not letting go of his sisters hand as he slumped against a tree. "How'd you manage to get yourself into that situation, anyway?" Fred asked, nodding his head towards Andria's slightly swelling foot.

"Shoved to the ground, nobody was kind enough to help me up and then some pompous prick thought that putting his _entire body weight_ right on top of my foot would be a right good idea. I was on the ground for a good five minutes before you swept me off my feet. Quite literally."

George gave a smug smile. "Guess you could say I –"

Ginny let out a terrified scream, pointing up to the night sky. "It's his mark! It's You-Know-Who's mark! It's the Dark Mark!" Each one of them turned to the sky, eyes widening as a green skull was illuminated amongst the stars and smoke from burning tents, mouth open and a green snake slithering through its mouth and out the back of its head.


	36. Chapter 36

George had taken Andria back to his tent where, with Andria still in his arms, he, Fred and Ginny sat upon the sofa, none of them uttering a word. Andria could feel her hands trembling, there was something about that mark that made her feel impeccably queasy and sent her head spinning.

"We should get your foot tended to." One of the older Weasley brothers said, Andria was sure he said with name was Charlie, crouching in front of the sofa, looking at the damage. "Nasty work." He muttered, lightly touching the top of her foot with a soft finger. It was immediately retracted when Andria let out a soft hiss. "I'll take you through to my room to fix it up – better lighting."

"No." George said firmly, his grip tightening rather possessively. "She'll stay here."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "Now isn't the time for your _feelings_ to get in the way, alright?" He teased. "I just want to fix her foot –"

"I said _no_." George repeated, looking at his older brother with a glare. "I'm the only one she knows properly, alright? Fix her foot here."

"All it's going to be is a quick spell and then it'll be in full function, just because she knows you doesn't mean you're going to make the fixing any better." Charlie huffed.

"Well then, if it's just a quick spell, you'd be okay with doing it here, wouldn't you?" George snapped, gripping onto Andria's thighs almost like he was ensuring that she wasn't going to get away. Charlie sighed impatiently, looking at Andria with pleading eyes.

"I'll be fine." Andria insisted. "Your brother's only going to fix my foot. Anything he does won't be worse than what just happened out there." Andria shuffled about on the George's lap, taking Charlie's outstretched hand and pulled herself up.

He helped her hobble through to the one of the bedrooms where he conjured up a chair with the flick of his wand, signalling her to take a seat. "I work with Dragons in Romania." He said quietly, slipping off Andria's heel delicately, apologising quietly when she winced. "I get injured quite a bit, so healing charms is something of a speciality that has to be obtained." He crouched to the ground to inspect Andria's foot further, humming and ahhing. "Nasty work, what did you do, get your foot run over by a steam roller?" He asked light-heartedly. Andria smiled; she had no idea what a steam roller was.

"Some guy stood on it." She shrugged. More voices flooded into the main of the tent and Andria tensed.

"It's just my dad, Ron and his mates." Charlie said quietly. Andria couldn't help but notice the look of relief that washed over his face. "I'll be back in a second." He muttered absently, leaving Andria alone in the small bedroom. She could hear murmurs of worry and comfort – the murmurs of a concerned family. She began to feel rather uncomfortable.

It took around five minutes before Charlie returned, looking thoroughly apologetic. "Sorry about that." He muttered, kneeling down by her foot. "Alright, let's see what I can do. I'm not sure if it's broken or not – there's too much swelling."

"Attractive." Andria scoffed, rubbing at her temples. "I heard a crunching when he stepped on me, if that makes it any clearer."

"Actually, it does." Charlie said, nodding his head slightly. "Thanks. I'm going to reduce the swelling, first, just to see how severe the… bone stuff is." He muttered a word under his breath, pointing his wand at her foot. Miraculously, the swelling disappeared rapidly and pain free. "So," Charlie sighed, staring intently at Andria's foot. "How _did_ you end up by the woods, anyway? Fred says they found you about twenty feet from the water pump."

"I was getting water." Andria muttered. "Got lost, first, though. That's how I ended so far from my tent."

"So you weren't making an… _early_ escape?"

"An early escape?" Andria repeated with a frown. "Do you think I knew about the attacks? That they were going to happen?"

"Just something that's up in the air." Charlie said softly. "People know that the Malfoy's were heavily involved with the Dark Arts in You-Know-Who's uprising. Depends if you believe that they were truly under the influence of the Imperius Curse."

"Had this been last summer, I would have known." Andria said bitterly. "But I can assure you that I had no clue about any sort of event to take over the course of today _other_ than the Final."

"What happened in the course of a year?" Charlie asked curiously, eyeing her up heavily.

"Let's just say that the trust that my parents once held for me has probably vanished completely. Or maybe they're being precautious. Possibly they had nothing to do with it, point is, I haven't got a clue." Charlie flicked his wand at Andria's foot and with a series of small crunches that sounded an awful lot like paper being crumpled, her foot no longer hurt.

"That could be it, I think. Tell me if it hurts." He muttered, pressing into her foot firmly. "Ron says he saw your brother at the outskirts of the wood. Know anything about that?"

"No." Andria answered, moving her previously hurt foot around a little. "Doesn't hurt anymore, thanks."

"No problem." Charlie said quietly, flashing her a quick smile. Andria couldn't tell if he believed her or not. "Ron was saying that he practically admitted that your mum and dad were in that crowd of Death Eaters."

"My mother? No. My father? Possibly, but it would be highly risky considering his past and association."

Charlie stopped tampering with her foot to look her dead in the eye. "Are you saying that your father is, for sure, a Death Eater? Because if you are, you can testify against him. The words from someone who has spent her entire life under the same roof as him, bound to know almost everything he gets up to would –"

"Wouldn't matter." Andria interrupted with a small smile. "My testimony will be counted as unreliable. They'd pull my mother and brother to the stand and they can claim that I'm doing what I can to get my own back."

"Your own back?" Charlie repeated curiously.

"I found out I was adopted back in November and I've been having a bit of a hard time about it, some would call what I've been doing as a cry for help or teenage rebellion, and it's not like my actions won't back that up." Andria let out a small sigh. "They have me _exactly_ where they want me and I had no clue. I'm close enough to them so they know I won't spill their secrets but I'm far from them so that they can create new ones right under my nose."

"The Dark Mark was a serious move." Charlie said, standing up straight. "What side of this impending war are you on?"

"Every minute of every day I'm falling further and further from my fate as the wife of one of You-Know-Who's loyal servants and getting closer to becoming shut off from my supposed heritage all together. I could lie, pretend that I believe that you and I are superior beings because our blood is somehow _pure_ but I've chosen not to. I could have turned my back on Snape and refused to even be in the same room as George but I didn't. I didn't have to run off to help Ron from a rabid dog who was dragging him under a tree. I didn't have to stop my father from insulting yours earlier today. But I did, and I did it because I believe there's more to this world than the blood that runs through my veins, I don't want my children growing up like I did. While it wasn't a difficult upbringing, I mean I got everything I wanted without having to ask twice, but it was by no means easy."

"Must have been a real hardship, having access to everything you ever wanted." Charlie said with a mingled bitter and teasing tone. Andria rolled her eyes, not about to explain herself unnecessarily. "My dad said that you can stay here, to avoid the trouble that may be outside." Andria could tell that Mr Weasley had probably not said those exact words. "Do you want to owl your parents? Tell them where you are and that you're safe?"

"Uh, sure." She muttered, scratching her fingers lazily thought her hair.

"Alright, then, I'll take you through to the living – to the main bit, I'll go get Pig and you can write your letter." Charlie instructed, holding a hand out to Andria. She took it gratefully, nodding in approval of his plan. She followed him through to the sitting room. Ginny, Hermione, Harry and Ron were no longer there – presumably having been sent to bed, judging by the fact that Mr Weasley was arguing with both of the twins pleading for them to _for once in their lives_ follow his orders.

The room fell silent when Andria's presence was noticed. "How – How are you feeling?" Mr Weasley asked cautiously, looking at her with slight suspicion.

"I'm better now, thanks to your son." Andria looked at Charlie and gave a smile. "Sons, really, George and Fred were pretty fantastic, too."

"What's new?" Fred and George chorused together with equally cheesy smiles.

"Parchment, quill and an annoying owl. Just like I promised." Charlie said, glaring at a small bird as it flapped around the tents, placing the quill and half a foot of parchment onto a countertop in the kitchen. Andria smiled gratefully, walking through the fret tension. "For goodness sake, Pig, stand _down_." Charlie muttered at the fleeing owl.

Dipping the quill into the pot almost run out of ink, she scrawled a quick letter.

 _I'm safe. The Weasley Twins found me just before the chaos began, in their tent now. I will meet someone, not much caring to who, at the Leaky Cauldron at 0830 sharp. Do not be late, it is unbecoming of a Pureblood to avoid punctuality, you should know that._

 _Andria._


	37. Chapter 37

"We should all be getting to bed." Arthur Weasley said adamantly, looking with narrowed eyes at the twins and Andria. "We've all had a long day, it's time to sleep." His gaze lingered upon the young girl, narrowing a little more. "It may not quite be up to your standards, Miss Malfoy, but the couch is the only spare sleeping space we have left."

"Oh, it's okay, Mr Weasley." She said politely, ignoring the rather resentful tone in the man's voice. "For reasons that would take far too long to disclose, I will not be able to sleep tonight."

"Unable to –" Mr Weasley stopped talking, brows raising and the slight glare in his eyes turning into curiosity. "Nonsense. Your _father_ –" he sneered the word as if he resented calling Lucius Malfoy anything other than a pretentious, overly privileged, snide bastard, "will only have more reason to look down at me if I do not ensure that his only daughter gets at least half a nights rest."

"I am certain, sir that he would be beyond furious if I did sleep." Andria said honestly, trying to make her expressions look as earnest as possible.

Mr Weasley studied her for a few moments, perhaps Andria's insistence had wavered his assumptions of Lucius Malfoy or perhaps it fit right into what he thought the man to be; Lucius Malfoy was a monstrous man who would not allow his eldest child to sleep. The latter option amused her so she stuck with it, deciding that she could spend at least a good chunk of the exhaustible, sleep-deprived night thinking about all the other things Arthur Weasley told himself about her father. "Alright." Mr Weasley said slowly. "There should be some tea bags in the kitchen if you need refreshments." Andria gave him a smile, bowing her head in a silent thanks. "George, Fred, off to bed."

"And leave a lady up all on her lonesome?" Fred objected, eyes dancing with wondrous humour that Andria could only dream to have. He stood quickly, captured by his brothers arms as he stumbled with undeniable exhaustion. He gave Andria a small smile. "I'd hate to tolerate you and leave you, Malfoy, but I've decided to see the errors of my ways, for I must listen to the rules my dear old man sets in place." Fred clapped his father on the shoulder, giving him a testing grin.

"Just get to bed." Mr Weasley sighed. Andria felt like she knew the reason for his thinning hair and wrinkles. George followed his brother silently, only sparing Andria a half glance. They disappeared behind some curtains and soon after the sounds of beds creaking had ceased to fill the tent with white noise, Mr Weasley left the room without so much as a word, leaving Andria to her own devices.

Two hours past, her eyes drooped with every blink and she had grown tired of conjuring Mr Weasley's thoughts on her father. It was not as time consuming as she had thought.

A the small clock hanging in the kitchen hit quarter to four in the morning, the small, energetic owl flittered into the room, stopping in front of Andria with beady, curious eyes. A small piece of parchment clung to its foot. Carefully, she untangled the string and unravelled the parchment.

 _I am glad you are safe. I will see you sharp in the morning._

 _Draco x_

A small smile tugged at the corners of Andria's mouth. Draco she could more than tolerate, he had been in the dark about as much as she had. Even after revelations, her heart held the same amount of adoration and love for her little brother as it done so before. She held onto the letter a little tighter, watching as the small owl took up into the air, darting around wildly before bolting through a thin curtain.

At half five, Mr Weasley walked from his sleeping area, fully dressed, not paying Andria the slightest hint of attention before he set about the task of waking his family and guests. She watched on with subtle amusement as the Weasley's walked around with drooping eyes, loud yawns and mutters of incoherent mess, something she felt she could closely relate to.

The two girls slouched into the tent, dropping onto the sofa by Andria. Ginny looked much better, even with only a few hours of sleep. She looked less frightened, the look that Andria had gotten to know her briefly by. Hermione was the definition of state; her hair went wild, bushier than usual and bags, dark and noticeable bags, had formed under her eyes.

"Has everybody got all of their possessions?" Mr Weasley asked a three minutes past six. "Yes?" The Weasley's, Hermione and Harry grunted back a response that sound a little like an agreement. "Good. Come on, let us leave." Andria kept to the back of the family and to herself, not feeling much up for conversation as they stepped into the open, the smell of burning and the faint sound of sobs were off putting. She followed the family to the area where Portkeys lay and Mr Weasley chatted with the Portkeys Keeper. Andria kept her head down, not wanting to bare eye to the scared masses of witches and wizards.

"You'll be coming with us, Miss Malfoy." Mr Weasley said as they gathered around a tire. "It is not yet seven and Charlie tells me that you will be meeting at Diagon Alley at around nine. You can Floo from my home."

"Alright." Andria said quietly, nodding her head in agreement.

"Great." Mr Weasley said, smiling with his hands on his hips as he peered at the tire. "Everyone get a hold." Andria crouched, taking grip of the tire, smiling at the tired Harry to her right. He gave a dozy smile back seconds before the tire took into the air, taking the holders to Stoadshead Hill before the sun had even had the change to rise over the hill.

"We live just across Ottery St Catchpole, that's where we're heading through now."

Andria nodded, looking up towards the voice with a small smile. "This place looks really pretty." He shrugged, trying to play nonchalant. "If I lived round here I'd never leave."

"I guess it looks alright." He muttered stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Where about do you live, anyway?"

"Wiltshire." She answered shortly.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling embarrassed about taking you, a resident of a _mansion_ , into my home."

"You need not be embarrassed, George." Andria said quietly, smiling gingerly. "Your house will be lovely regardless of the size."

"Whatever you say." George muttered, a faint blush on his cheeks, mingling with his dotted freckles. "What's Wiltshire like? I've never been."

"It's alright, I guess." Andria shrugged. "My family and I don't really wonder about much. Our land is big enough so we keep to ourselves. If we decide to venture about, it's to places abroad or to family homes."

"Sounds nice."

"It's alright, I guess." Andria repeated. She sighed softly, closing her eyes and basking in the sunlight as its first rays crept over the top of the hill. "I am unbelievably exhausted." She muttered, forcing her eyes open.

"So you really didn't sleep?"

"Not at all."

"Not even a little power nap?"

"Nope."

"A cat nap?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Forty winks?"

"Not even ten."

"How cruel." George simpered.

"Terrible so."

"So, what is the reasoning to why you're being deprived from sleep?"

"Some malfunction I have, or something. I don't really know, I've never asked."

"You've never asked why you're not allowed to sleep?"

"I've slept, of course. I just have to have a potion before I do. Without the potion, I've been told that something terrible happens. When you're told that at the age of three when you ask a question you learn not to ask anymore."

George side-eyed her playfully. "Honestly, I think you're giving me more reason to believe that you're a vampire."

"Oh no!" Andria crowed, throwing her head back with faux dejection. "You figured out my secret! Now I'm going to have to drain your blood!" George let out a little laugh but said nothing further.

As they all rounded a large lane in silence, a large cry pierced through the air, alerting the sleepy walkers. "Oh, thank goodness, thank goodness!" Andria could recognise Mrs Weasley from the picture that was plastered in the Daily Prophet of her and her family in Egypt the previous summer. She was short, stout and had a loving, doting aura about her. It was incredibly refreshing to see a woman so devoted to her family's safety; Narcissa hadn't even owled Andria to check if she was okay and hadn't even bothered to reply to her letter. "Arthur – I've been so worried – _so worried_!" She grabbed at her husband, embracing him tightly, the copy of the _Prophet_ that she had previously held fluttering to the floor, the headline ' _SCENES OF TERROR AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP_ ' loud and obvious on the floor, a grey-scale picture of the Dark Mark in the sky which unsettled Andria's stomach.

"You're all right." Mrs Weasley whispered, staring at her crowd of familiars and Andria with red rimmed eyes. Andria highly doubted that she'd be getting a sniffle out of her mother when she returned home, she was most likely in for some talk on punctuality or something of the sort. "You're alive… oh, _boys_!" Mrs Weasley gripped at the twins, pulling them into a tight hug, their heads knocking together as they folded down to their mother's side.

"Ouch! Mum – you're strangling us!"

"I shouted at you before you left!" Mrs Weasley cried, eyes screwing shut as she hugged her twin sons with more force. "It's all I've been thinking about!" Tears squeezed through her closed eyes, dripping continuously down her face. "What if You-Know-Who had got you, and the last thing I ever said to you was that you didn't get enough OWLs? Oh, Fred… George!"

"Come on, now, Molly, we're all perfectly okay." Mr Weasley said soothingly, ripping the twins from her tight hold. He put a hand to the small of her back, turning her towards their house. Andria hadn't had time to look at it much, just as a note before she was side-tracked by a feeling of green at the scene that had unfolded before her.

"Who's this?" Mrs Weasley sniffled, taking notice of the imposter in their midst.

"I'm – I'm Andria, ma'am. Andria Malfoy." She watched as Mrs Weasley's eyes narrowed slightly before going as wide as Galleons.

"Andria!" She gaped. "Why – My, Arthur, would you –"

"Not now, Molly, dear." Mr Weasley said softly, giving her a tight smile.

"Oh." Mrs Weasley said quietly. "Of course. Of course not." She muttered away to herself. Her eyes met Andria's once more, beckoning her with the wave of her small fingers to follow on. Andria did, walking awkwardly alongside the two spouses. "You – You helped George with his potions, didn't you?"

"I did, ma'am."

"Thank you, thank you ever so much." Mrs Weasley gushed, taking Andria by surprise. "My two boys talk ever so highly of you, dear, you managed to get George a good grade in potions!"

"It was nothing at all, really." Andria said instinctively, trying to downplay her achievements. "He had all the knowledge, he just didn't know how to apply it correctly."

"Exactly!" Mrs Weasley agreed enthusiastically. "Exactly. But you managed to get him to apply, it was very generous of you. George tells me that you're only in your fourth year?"

"Yes, ma'am. I go into my fifth year after summer."

"Ma'am." Mrs Weasley repeated with a small, bashful laugh as if it were the first time she had registered Andria calling her that. "Please, dear, call me Molly."

"Oh, but I couldn't." Andria insisted. "My mother would have my head if I were not to follow proper etiquette. If you would prefer it, Mrs Weasley will do." Narcissa would also probably have her head for being in the midst of a Blood Traitor and treating them with kindness, but Andria felt like she could leave that out of the conversation.

"You're ever so polite, Andria." Mrs Weasley smiled. "I wish my children had even a fraction of the politeness that you seem to possess."

Andria was lost for words as they walked into the Weasley household. The kitchen was busy, it looked lived in and had a warm sensation of liveliness about it; it was the complete opposite from the entire Malfoy Manor, and she had only seen a small proportion of it. "Sit, sit!" Mrs Weasley ushered. "All of you, sit down! I'll get us all some tea." Andria sat in a small wooden chair, watching Mrs Weasley with fascination as she brewed the tea herself. No help at all, no House Elves, no wand. A pureblood woman was, before Andria's very eyes, operating in the kitchen alone.

"Wait." Mr Weasley said loudly before his wife started pouring the tea into mugs. "I think we all need a little bit of this." He reached into a cupboard, hauling out a bottle half full of Firewhiskey, twisting the cap off and splashing a little into the pot.

"Arthur!" Mrs Weasley objected, although it didn't sound as if her heart was in it. "We have _guests_!" Her eyes went straight to Andria and she knew what she meant almost immediately _we have a Malfoy sitting at our table_.

"I knew it." Mr Weasley grunted, looking over the front page of the _Prophet_. " _Ministry blunders… culprits not apprehended… lax security… Dark wizards running unchecked… national disgrace…_ Who wrote this?" Mr Weasley demanded angry. Pureblood supremacy aside, Andria could really see her father and Mr Weasley getting along just swimmingly, the same scene was probably unfolding in Malfoy Manor that very second, Lucius grumbling to himself while reading the article. "Ah, of course." Mr Weasley said softly, voice bitter. "Rita Skeeter."

"That woman's got it in for the Ministry of Magic!" One of the Weasley boys said lividly. "Last week she was saying we're wasting our time quibbling about cauldron thickness, when we should be stamping out vampires! As if it wasn't _specifically_ stated in paragraph twelve of the _Guidelines for the Treatment of Non-Wizard Part-Humans_ –"

"Do us a favour, Perce," One of the older Weasley boys said with a small yawn "and shut up." Andria smiled down at the table, picking up her mug of hot tea and cradling it to her chest.

"I'm mentioned." Mr Weasley said, eyes blowing wide as he stared at the newspaper in front of him.

A hand reached out, touching Andria's shoulder as Mrs Weasley spluttered back at her husband. "Heat makes you fall asleep, you know." George commented teasingly.

"Yeah," Andria said quietly, placing the mug back on top of the table, "tell me about it." She stifled a yawn. "I can't wait to get home to sleep."

George gave her a small, slightly awkward smile in return. "Come with me outside, we can walk about the field and stuff, keep you awake."

"Yeah." Andria muttered absently, she took a long sip of her tea before sighing. "Yeah, I could use something to keep me awake." Andria slipped quietly out of her chair as Mr Weasley read out a chunk of the article and followed George out of the kitchen into the cool summer's morning breeze. "If my mother or father don't allow me to sleep when I get home I will be _so_ unbelievably pissed."

"I'm sure they will." George said, sticking his hands into his pockets and glaring up at the light blue sky. "It's not exactly illegal, is it? They'll know that you haven't been able to get ay rest."

"I think you're seriously overestimating the love they have for me." Andria snorted bitterly. George stayed quiet, looking at the girl from the corner of his eyes, through his growing hair. "They'll need to punish me, you see, for not returning to the tent when I was supposed to. They'll have to set an example for my brother, make sure that he doesn't get this rebellious when he gets to my age." Andria let out a slightly bitter laugh. "It's fucking _ridiculous_. I'd be less pissed had I actually purposefully not returned. All I did was take one wrong turn somewhere and got lost."

"Tell them that." George suggested, trying to be helpful. "They'll understand, they _have_ to under –"

"They don't _have to_ anything." Andria muttered, kicking at a stray stone. "We're Malfoy's, we don't abide by the rules." She said with a harsh laugh. "I don't think you realise how jealous I am of you, George Weasley."

"Of me?" George asked in confusion, turning to face the girl fully. "You're jealous of _me_?" Andria nodded, resolving into silence. "You can get anything you want. All you have to do is ask and you have it. How could you be jealous of me?"

"Material possessions mean nothing, not really. They can bring you happiness for a short while, but its comparison to that of love, family love, is bleak." George didn't say anything, he stared at Andria unblinkingly, urging her to continue silently. "My mother and father love me. They really do, they wouldn't be trying so hard if it were otherwise but their pride is their downfall. The worth of the Malfoy name means a whole great deal more to them than I do, and it makes sense."

"It doesn't." George objected, face scrunching up at the obscurity of it.

"Trust me, it does." Andria said quietly. She cleared her throat and continued. "I am not even sixteen – my years pale in comparison to the Malfoy status. Centuries of high ranking, pureblood supremacy and status is everything compared to my feeble existence. I can't even bring them an heir, I am but the carcass that will provide some _other_ wealthy pureblood family with the chance to expand on their lineage. Currently, I am a weight on my father shoulder until I am sent off to marry." Andria sighed once more. "Draco is the light in both of my parent's eyes. They claim otherwise, but I can tell. He will for sure provide a son and further on the Malfoy name – something which I cannot do. Mother will cry at my wedding, sob about how her _little girl is all grown up_ and my father will make sly gestures about how my husband should treat me right or he'll have the Malfoy clan set upon him, but that won't make a difference. If I can set up alliances and keep myself out from the Malfoy vault for the rest of my life my husband is at liberty to treat me how he see fit." In spite of herself, Andria could feel her eyes get damp. "Forgive me," she said thickly, running her fingers under her eyes "you must think I'm being so stupid."

"Not at all." George said quickly. "You're feelings are perfectly valid, I'd feel the same if I were in your situation."

"But you're _not_." Andria said moodily, stamping her foot on the ground like a petulant child. " _That's_ why I'm jealous of you. Your mother – she looked positively elated when she saw us walking down the path. She was so happy to see that you were alive, she apologised for shouting at you and Fred, said that it was the only thing she could think of. My mother couldn't even reply to my letter saying I was safe. Neither could my father – my fourteen year old brother replied." George stayed silent and Andria sniffled, capturing her slow dripping tears with a brush of her finger. "I've been avoiding them all summer." She said lowly, watching with slight disdain as her heels sunk into the moist mud. "I can't even look them in the eye. I've probably read the entire contents of our library by now, I'm even going as far as to read my old first year books. I can now walk the maze with my eyes closed and still make it to the middle without tripping. I'm doing everything I can to stay out of their way."

"Because you don't want to marry?" George asked quietly. Andria shrugged, realising that no, George didn't know her situation. He thought she was a Malfoy through and through.

"Partially." She answered shortly. "My ball is in a few days."

"Your ball? Like a grand party type thing?"

"In so many words, yes." She answered with dread. "It's so I can meet and dance with each of my bachelors. After, I narrow down my list to at least three men, one of which I will wed when the last one of us finishes with our education."

"We should probably head back." George muttered, looking down at the small, tatty pocket watch that lay in his hands. "It's just about twenty past eight."

"Oh yes, yes." Andria muttered, nodding her head. "Thanks for listening, by the way. You really didn't have to endure my incessant rambling of a mad woman."

"It's alright." George said easily and they began the short walk back to The Burrow. "I quite like listening to you talk, you've got a voice only deaf trolls would love." Andria laughed, shaking her head and nudging George lightly with her elbow. He decided that he quite liked listening to her laugh, too.


	38. Chapter 38

Diagon Alley was busy, as per usual, posters were curling at the edges of the mass murderer Sirius Black, it truly looked as if the British wizarding population had given up on that dilemma altogether. "You really didn't have to accompany me, you know." Andria said idly, picking at her dress that she had been wearing, now, for around 22 hours. "I can manage this alone. All I'm doing is meeting my brother here, I'm not going into battle."

"True." George simpered, closing his eyes momentarily as he nodded sagely. "But really, I just wanted out of the house."

"I can relate." Andria muttered, readjusting herself on the bar stool.

"You know, if you're ever wanting to get away from your house you could always come to mine, if you wish." George offered, looking into the crowds of people that scattered about the Leaky Cauldron, not wanting to see Andria's face when she would undoubtedly laugh and call him an idiot for thinking that he was even remotely on the same level, that she wouldn't be caught going to a Blood Traitors home willingly.

"Wow." Andria said softly and George braced himself for the inevitable. "Thank you, I might just take you up on that offer."

" _What_?" George balked, turning towards the younger girl, eye blown as wide as galleons. "Seriously?"

"Only if you want me to." Andria backtracked quickly, slightly weary to his reaction. "Although, I don't know why you offered if you didn't mean it."

"I did mean it." George clipped rather uncomfortably. "I just expected you to say no, that's all."

"Well, I said yes, so now you're stuck with me." She slid off the bar stool with an excellent smile in his direction. "My brother's here. I'll see you some time soon, yeah?" George nodded, lost for words as he watched Andria stalk towards Little Malfoy, his eyes opened to a whole new side of her. He quite liked it.

/ / /

"Alright?" Draco asked smoothly, playing cool, calm and collected but his eyes were filled to the brim with nerves and his posture was a little frigid.

"Yeah." Andria said quietly, grinning. "I'm fine. Bloody exhausted, mind you, but fine nonetheless."

"I asked father to attach a vile of your potion to the owl, but the damn thing was too flitty. Thought it would be a little insensitive sending you an empty vile that was once full so I decided against sending one at all."

"I think the owl was called Pig." Andria said with a small smile. "Yeah, I recall one of the Weasley brothers calling the owl Pig. Funny, isn't it?"

"Oh, it's just downright hilarious." Draco retorted dryly, hands stuffing into his pockets. "Want to get something to eat?" He asked, peering at the menu hanging above the bar.

"I'm too tired for food, can't we just go home?" Andria pleaded, twisting her hands out in front of her.

"Yeah." Draco muttered softly. "Yeah, let's just go home." They walked towards the queue at the fireplace, standing patiently. "They treated you right, did they?" Draco asked, letting his eyes roam to where George remained seated at the bar.

"Oh, yes." Andria nodded. "They were very nice about it all. Some git trod on my foot, heard it crunch, it was awful, and one of the older brothers fixed me up."

"Should get mother to look it over, just in case their little _fix_ wasn't permanent."

"He's the real deal, little brother, trust me. He works with dragons." The line filed down.

"Ah, so he got his St Mungo's pass on the healing charms in Romania while attending to _creatures_ of the _sky_?"

"Ah, so mother got her St Mungo's pass on the healing charms in the manor while attending to a whiny bitch baby like you?"

Draco cuffed her over the back of the head. "Shut up." He clipped. "She's – She's a woman isn't she?"

"Stellar observations, how long have you been sitting on _that_ information for?"

"Shut up." He clipped again. "Woman are – Woman are naturals at healing charms. Check Madam Pomfrey for instance…"

"Your sexism is truly noble, Draco, but Pomfrey didn't just _magically_ become a Healer, she went through intense training. Have you seen _me_ trying to perform a simple healing charm? I'd do what Lockhart did to Potter in your second year – remember when he removed all his bones?"

"Yeah, but you're... _you_ , aren't you?"

"This adoption scandal truly was a blessing in disguise, I don't know why I never thought of it before. You're so fucking stupid and non-intellectual and I'm – well, I'm damn near _perfect_ aren't I?"

"Take the fucking powder and get home." Draco grunted, dipping his hand into the charmed bowl, picking up the green Floo powder. Andria followed his lead, winking at him dramatically as she stepped into the fireplace.

"Malfoy manor!"

/ / /

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were overwhelming with their brooding and moodiness when Andria stepped gracefully out of the fireplace. They barely lifted their eyes from their tasks (Lucius was frantically reading the paper and his wife was coating her long, sharp nails with a candy floss pink nail varnish), barely acknowledging that their daughter, who had gotten lost in amongst the chaos and trauma of the Quidditch World Cup.

"Hello, dear." Narcissa muttered between blowing on her nails softly.

"Hullo."

"Pronounce your words, Andria, we are not barbarians." Narcissa said lightly, lifting her eyes slightly to meet her daughter's.

"I am fine, by the way. Don't both rush to my aid, it's not like a bunch of pathetic shit stains terrorised the World Cup and I almost got caught in the cross fire." Andria said snidely, she walked to the cabinet chalk full with expensive alcohol and picked the bottle of Firewhiskey, studying the back of it. "And I had a _brilliant_ nights rest, thanks for your concern."

"You _slept_?" Lucius demanded, almost ripping the paper in half with the force he shoved it down onto his lap at.

"No, I didn't. That was called _sarcasm_ , father. I understand fully if your mind can't comprehend such large scale –"

"Are you all arguing _again_?" Draco demanded with a frustrated huff as he stepped out the fireplace, edging around Andria carefully. "Different record, same tune or is the record just broken?"

"I know you were involved." Andria said pointedly, ignoring her infuriating sibling. "I would have been completely oblivious had Draco, here, not practically _flaunted_ that fact to the youngest Weasley boy and Potter!"

" _Draco_!" Narcissa yelped, forgetting about her wet nails for a moment and stare at her son in bewilderment.

"I _never_ admitted to anything." He said adamantly, ignoring his father's harsh stare. "What did you say to that?"

"Oh, I said that our _precious_ , dear old daddy was quite the Death Eater back in the day when we were shitting ourselves and getting away with – I denied it, you fool, I am not an idiot. I said I had no idea what you guys got up to in your spare time."

"If your power play stunt backfires on us, _boy_ , I assure you, you will –"

"Do you think that the Ministry will believe _Weasley_? Or _Potter_?" Draco demanded and Andria couldn't help but feel a little bit of pride, watching her younger brother stand up to their father like that.

"Oh yes." Narcissa said blandly, rising from her seat and walking to Andria, snatching the bottle of Firewhiskey from her hand. "Why would the Ministry of Magic believe the boy who banished the Dark Lord? Because he's never done anything good for the Wizarding World before, has he?" Andria grinned at her mother's blatant sarcasm. "Say what you want, Andria, but I am glad you're alive and well." Narcissa placed a kiss on top of Andria's head. "You're potion has been put back on your bedside table. Go upstairs, change out of those _smelly_ clothes, take some and go to sleep. I'll wake you before dinner." Andria let out a small sigh, nodding her head and obeying orders. Her mother may not wait on paths to see if she's alive, but she did care and it would be enough for now, Andria supposed.

"You should have given her some kind of punishment for disobeying –"

"Oh, _quiet_ , Lucius." Narcissa huffed. "She's alive and well and I, for one, am _thrilled_ that she came to no harm and that the Weasley's saw past your behaviour yesterday and took her in for her wellbeing instead of letting her wonder around until some creep picked her up. Leave her be and just be happy that we _have_ a daughter."

Andria grinned as she climbed the stairs, yeah, she thought, it was definitely enough.


	39. Chapter 39

"I like Andria." Molly said pleasantly, stirring the porridge in the pan with a flick of her wand. "I'm glad you asked her up, Georgie, she's a nice girl."

"She's still a Malfoy, though." Arthur said with slight bitterness. "It doesn't matter about her… _past_ situation." Molly nodded with a hum and George looked thoroughly perplexed, he remained silent, hoping they would forget his presence and discuss more on what they thought her " _past situation_ " was. "She was raised by the Malfoy's, she's different than her…"

"Past situation, yes, Arthur, I know." Molly sighed, brushing her hands with a dish cloth. "I guess there's always hope, isn't there?"

"No." Arthur said bluntly. "You don't know Lucius Malfoy, Molly –"

"Oh, and _you_ do? Do you meet for weekly chats over some tea and crumpets?"

"He'll have _brainwashed_ her. I think it's dangerous and toxic to have her in her home more than needs be."

"Don't listen to your dad, George." Molly said, looking around her husband to her son who sat at the table alone. "I'm glad we'll be seeing more of her."

"She's not –" Arthur stopped talking, leaning close to his wife and whispering in her ear.

"I am well aware of the fact." Molly said curtly. "I'm not changing my mind, Arthur. You're off to the Ministry in a second, anyway, you'll barely even notice that she was here by the time you return."

"That's unfair." Arthur protested meekly.

"But the truth, nonetheless." Molly stepped back from the stove, levitating the pan so all of its sloppy contents spilled into a large pot. "Breakfast!" Molly called loudly, bracing herself for the warming sounds of her family running down the stairs to grab something to eat.

"I'll be going." Arthur said quietly, kissing his wife's cheek. "I'll be back –"

"Don't say a time, Arthur." Molly scolded lightly. "We both know you'll only be disappointed when you get home later than promised."

"Right." Arthur said quietly. "Right. Well, see you later."

"I'll leave some dinner for you if you're not back in time." Molly said, smiling as Ginny and Hermione reached the kitchen before anyone else. "Morning, dears."

"Morning." They chorused together, scraping the chairs out, taking seat.

"I'll see you lot later." Arthur said, reaching for his things as the rest of his brood and Harry reached the kitchen. "And that girl, Molly, _please_ , for the love of _Merlin_ , don't let her back."

"Wait, father!" Percy, the third eldest Weasley boy, called, snatching his coat from the coat rack. "I'll join you, you are going to work, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I'll join!"

"Who was dad talking about?" Ginny asked curiously, scooping porridge into a bowl and snagging some warm toast with melting jam.

"George's friend, Andria." Molly said with a slight scowl, watching her husband and son apparate. "Don't listen to him, George, she's allowed under this roof as long as I'm the one keeping it together."

"I don't know, mum." Charlie muttered, sipping at his tea appearing to be aloof about the whole situation. "Maybe dad's right. She's a Malfoy after all, practically admitted it to me that Lucius Malfoy was one of the Death Eaters in that crowd and that the whole Imperius act _was_ a lie – as we all suspected, of course, but she practically confirmed it."

"Do you really think that if she truly was a follower of You-Know-Who she'd stay in the tent all night with us and not make a run for it? Or tell her folks in the letter that we _all read_ over her shoulder to come and save her immediately?" Bill asked, taking a pensive sip of his tea. "She seemed perfectly nice yesterday. If George thinks she's nice enough to invite over, then she's nice enough to be invited over. I trust his judgement."

"Thank you." George said loudly, slapping his hand on the table top pointedly.

"I don't know, Bill, Andria's an undoubtedly pretty girl." Charlie said lowly. "Maybe his judgement's somewhat clouded. You know how boys get when they're around girls, especially _teenage_ boys."

"I don't fancy her!" George objected loudly, looking wildly horrified at the mere suggestion.

"Never said you did, mate." Charlie said with a cheeky grin. "You jumped to that conclusion all by yourself."

"I really _don't_ fancy her. She just helped me with my potions and now we're sort of friends, I guess."

"You guess?" Charlie asked with raised brows.

"Well, we've never sat down and had a formal talk about it, no, but she calls me George and I call her Andria – that's what friends do. They call each other by their first names, don't they?"

"They also braid each other's hair." Fred piped up, deeming himself awake enough to add in on their conversation. "You haven't done that have you? If he says yes, then we don't need to worry about our ickle Georgie having a crush on Andria, we should shift our eyes to the _male_ population of –"

"I am _not_ gay. And I don't have a crush on Andria Malfoy!"

"Why is it, Charlie, that he said his last sentence with more ferocity than he did the first?" Fred asked innocently.

"Why, I don't know, Fred, but I'm sure if we could round up the boys with crushes on that little lady and ask if they fancy her, they'd reply in about the same fashion."

"Insufferable, both of you." George muttered, scooping porridge into his mouth distastefully.

/ / /

"It's morally wrong to smoke in the presence of children." Andria said, taking a seat at the dining table, a plate of toast and scrambled eggs already in front of her.

"It's a good thing I have two teenagers then, isn't it?" Lucius snarked. He blew out a steady billow of cigar smoke from the corner of his mouth.

"Mother is going to birth another peacock when she sees you smoking indoors."

"Another?" Lucius asked after a few seconds. "So she's birthed a first?" Andria rolled her eyes, taking a bit of her toast, looking at her father with a small glare.

"Morn – Mother is going to _kill_ you when she sees you smoking in the house."

Andria tossed a pointed look at her father. " _See_? Even Draco knows."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, sit and eat your breakfast before it gets cold." Smiling, she turned to her own breakfast, moving about her eggs with her fork. "I was thinking about going about Diagon Alley today." Andria said quietly. "Would I be allowed?"

"What is your need?" Lucius asked gruffly.

"My ball is in two weeks." Andria said nonchalantly. "I would like to spend my final days as a free girl being alone. Before I am shipped from one man – that's you, father – to another." Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Ask your mother."

"She's only going to tell me to ask you."

"And when you come back I'll give you an answer."

Andria stared, blinking slowly, trying to comprehend his logic. "Save me the time and give me an answer now."

"Are you challenging me?" Lucius asked, brows raised and a vaguely amused smile set upon his features.

"That would be ludicrous." Andria said gently, scooping eggs onto her fork. "I can't perform magic out of school, I'm not of age yet. Wait until next year's Christmas and I'll challenge you again."

"I look forward to it."

"What's that smell?" Narcissa looked as radiant as always, hair straight and reaching her mid back, lips coloured a faint pink, eyelashes curled and coated a sleek black and her nose in the air, wrinkled, detecting the strong smell of cigar smoke.

"Pity." Andria crooned with a grin. "We'll never get that duel after all. I gave you hopes of duelling with an expert – that's me – but here comes mother, surely to –"

"What have I told you about smoking in the house?" Her screech was deafening and the inferior smirk that Lucius once held had vanished. He stayed silent, frowning when his wife shot a stream of water from her wand onto the burning tip, extinguishing the burning end. "The next time I'll be helping you light it." Narcissa sat down, watching Lucius scoop up the wet tobacco, defeat in his eyes with high amusement in her own.

"Mum?" Andria asked coyly.

"Yes, dear?" Narcissa asked, her eyes softening as she looked at her daughter.

"Can I go to Diagon Alley alone today?"

"Ask –" Narcissa stopped, glowering at the man at the head of the table before turning to Andria with a sickly sweet smile. "Of course, love. Just be back before dinner."

"Does my opinion not mean anything?" Lucius demanded.

"Of course it does, darling, just not when you smoke in the house. The next time she asks, though, I'll be _sure_ to ask."

"I told you, father." Andria grinned, sliding from her chair, leaving her breakfast mostly untouched. "You shouldn't be smoking inside the house."

"She gets it." Narcissa said pointedly. "I'm sure Draco gets it." She turned to her husband with slotted eyes. "Why don't you, a _grown man_ , get it? What's not to get, Lucius? Don't smoke in the house."

 _George_ ,

Andria scrawled as soon as she had entered her room and the door was closed.

 _If it's okay with your parents and siblings, I would very much like to take you up on your offer. I realise how completely bizarre and unethical of me to use your offering the_ _day_ _after it was given, but I need to get out of this house. Everything's been fine, as far as fine goes, yesterday my father and I had a little bicker, but this morning I was plain and civil. I even went as far as joking. But it doesn't feel like it used to, I feel off, which stands by my statement; I NEED to get out of this house._

 _If you'll have me?_

 _Andria._


	40. Chapter 40

"What about you?" Fred asked curiously, peering at the girl who stood firmly on the ground as he hovered on his broom, brows raised inquisitively. "Do you play Quidditch?"

"Me?" The girl asked, hand going to her chest, a look of disbelief crossing her features. "No. I cannot say that I do."

"Never?" Fred pressed. "In your life? You've never played Quidditch, only the best sport to grace our feeble lives?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _feeble_ , per say." The girl muttered. "I don't particularly like flying. Once I outgrew my broom that wouldn't fly more than a few feet I sort of… _gave up_."

"Pish!"

"I don't enjoy flying, is all." She shrugged, craning her neck to get a proper look at Fred's face. "What if you fall? Break some bones?"

"Nothing Mungo's can't fix in a flash."

"What if you land on your neck in an awkward way? You'll for sure die!"

"Who hangs upside down on a broom to fall on their _neck_?"

"What if… what if –"

"Give it, Malfoy." Fred said easily with a cheeky smile. "It's really quite hard to fall off a broom, unless you're not holding on and standing on the thing."

"Maybe that's my riding style."

"Then I can see why you're scared."

"I call Chaser!" Bill Weasley kicked off the ground, soaring into the sky, grinning like a child about to open their presents on Christmas morning.

"Beater!" Fred said quickly, taking off after his brother.

"I wanna be Keeper!" Ron struggled out, quickly mounting his broom and kicking off into the sky.

"For the love of Merlin, Ron, pick a _proper role_." Fred drawled, twisting his broom into George's as he, too, joined them above ground.

"Keeper is one of the most –"

"They're ridiculous, aren't they?" A cool voice from the corner said. Andria whirled around coming face to face with Hermione Granger who looked at the hovering wizards with an amused smile.

"Sort of, yeah." Andria agreed quietly. Hermione walked over to her, taking a seat on the vacant chair to her left. "You don't play Quidditch?" Andria asked.

"Oh, no. I'm not one for flying."

"Yeah, me too." Hermione and Andria watched in silence as Harry and the youngest Weasley, Ginny, joined the make-shift Quidditch pitch, declaring their positions as Seekers.

"What brings you here?" Hermione asked, acting nonchalant but Andria could see the curiosity in her eyes.

Andria shrugged. "I like other people's company."

"You don't get that at home?"

"I really can't go more than an hour with my parents without wanting to shout, scream, cry, make an ugly mess out of myself and so on."

Hermione gave a slight nod. "Understandable." She said quietly.

"Is it though?" Andria questioned. "It's been over half a year since I found out, shouldn't I have made peace? Shouldn't I be embracing the fact that I'm not who I thought I was, but they love me in their own way _anyway_? I mean, I'm only fifteen, there's only a short amount of time before I'll be taking another man's last name, so does it _really matter_?"

"While I understand that your questions may be completely rhetorical," Hermione started "I'm going to answer them anyway."

"Please." Andria said waving her hand in the air, sitting gingerly on the chair next to Hermione's. "Answer away, _Merlin_ knows I need the answers."

"I believe your first question was about making peace?" Andria nodded. "Well, I don't think that making peace should have a time frame. It was a large amount of news you received, you'll need time to come to terms with it, won't you? And for the majority of those six months you were in Hogwarts, away from your mum and dad. You didn't have to face them."

"I had to face my brother."

"It's not really the same, though, isn't it?" Andria gave a measly shrug. "Your second question, about embracing the fact that they love you regardless, I can't really answer. I suppose, though, I can help you along to your answer." Hermione waited for a few seconds while Harry zoomed past them on his broom. "Do you think they love you?"

"Well, I – Of course. I mean, they've treated me like they should a daughter."

"And you love them?"

Andria faltered, frowning deeply, lounging back into the chair with resigned defeat. "Yeah." She said softly. "Yeah, I guess I do. It would be hard not to, y'know? They've only went and raised me for the majority of my life. How could I _not_ love them?"

"Then what you're feeling, I think, may be completely natural. You feel betrayed, I'm guessing. Betrayed by the people you love unconditionally. And as for your third question." Hermione sat up straighter. "It matters if you want it to matter."

"Guess so." Andria mumbled letting out a small sigh. "Thank you, by the way, for the help."

"It's not a problem. I'll always help my friends – or I'll always help _whatever_ we are."

"I like the idea of being friends."

"But it's not possible?" Hermione guessed at Andria's slight hesitance. Andria gave the younger girl a small, apologetic smile.

"I'd love to be friends, really." Andria said sincerely, the wise words of Lupin coming to mind. "But I also really value having a home to go back to in the holidays."

"Ah." Hermione mused with bitterness that no person of her age should really have to experience. "Because I'm Muggleborn."

"That doesn't matter to me." Andria said hastily. "Not any more. But it _does_ matter to my Housemates, to my brother who, if I know him as well as I like to think I do, will tell my parents who _also_ happen to think it matters a great deal." She sighed, scratching her fingers through her hair. "I'm in a bit of a predicament, I hope you can see." Hermione could see. She stared at the older girl, drinking in her lost, absent eyes, her slightly sunburnt neck that contrasted with the paleness of her skin, the downturn of her lips that seemed almost permanent, she seemed to be a shell of who she used to be. Hermione could empathise ever so slightly, she had been torn form her world too, going from ordinary human being like everyone else on her street and in her household to a _witch_ , and not in the negative sense of " _you slept with my boyfriend, you absolute witch!_ " she was a witch in a magical sense. She shook her head to herself, no, her example wasn't even close in comparison to finding out you're not as 'clean' and 'pure' blooded as you had grown up thinking. "It's sweltering out here, don't you think?" Andria asked through the silence.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed absently "it's boiling."

/ / /

"How was Diagon Alley, sweetheart?" Narcissa inquired as soon as Andria appeared through the fireplace. Andria gave a little cough, waving her hand about her face to rid of the smoke.

"It was Diagon Alley." Andria answered, stepping out from the fireplace, ignoring her mother's look of annoyance as she trailed soot onto the hardwood flooring.

"Where was it you went?" Lucius asked from the corner, lounging back in his armchair, swirling a small glass of Firewhiskey in his hands.

Andria didn't let herself falter, while yes, it was entirely possible that Lucius could have sunk that low to follow her around, but she was cautious. Nobody she had ever associated was in the Leaky Cauldron when she flooed to the Weasley's. Anyway, even if he _was_ petty enough to trek to Diagon Alley who's to say he would have spotted her had she been there, anyway? Diagon Alley didn't stand to a halt because she lied to her parents. It would have continued as per usual. "I visited the owls, the cats, Flourish and Blott's, Amanuensis Quills, Sugarplum's Sweets Shop, Madam Primpernelle's – need I go on?"

"Did you go to Madam Malkin's? Twilfitt and Tatting's?" Narcissa asked. Andria said that yes, she did indeed go to both. "Did anything catch your eye? We should really be thinking about what you are to wear…"

"I saw plenty of lovely things, but I don't want to commit or get attached just yet. Knowing you, you'll take a look at the set of robes I like and decide that it just doesn't agree with the shade of white my teeth is…"

"They are awfully white." Narcissa muttered, closing the magazine she had been reading and placing it on the vacant spot that remained next to her on the sofa. "Perhaps we should take a visit to Hogsmeade… Go to Gladrags, they always had lovely robes there when I was in school…"

"That was in the seventies, right? Let me just say that they've went downhill since then. Majorly. Gladrags is now just sadrags." Narcissa frowned and Andria smiled. "I'm going upstairs."

"Andria." Lucius called out as she reached the door. She twisted her head round, looking at her father with raised brows. "Don't do it again." He said coldly, an ominous tone to his voice.

Andria raised her brows sceptically, although her heart pounded and her hands began to clam. "Don't do _what_ again?" She asked, tyring to play oblivious.

 _He knew. He knew and she was going to be punished._

"You and I both know what I mean."

"I don't." Narcissa said. "What's going on?"

"I think only _you_ know what you're talking about, father." Andria said, trying not to be too obviously innocent.

 _He knew and she was going to be punished._

"Just – _don't do it again_."

"Alright?" She said slowly, walking out of the room casually.

 _He knew and she was going to be punished_. "Oh, bloody hell." Andria murmured to herself.


	41. Chapter 41

_Lupin,_

 _I am alive, as you can probably gather from my writing of this letter. Just in case you haven't gathered that just yet; Hello, I survived the Death Eater Attack on the Quidditch World Cup of 1994._

 _George Weasley, of all people, rescued me, actually. It was fantastic – great way to annoy the 'rents._

 _Speaking of a certain Weasley boy, and I write this with great nerves as I am unable – for reasons that will become painstakingly obvious – to confide in even a leaf of the apple tree in my garden. So, Lupin, here I am, confiding in my old DADA Professor._

 _Starting last week, George, you know, the bloke with ginger hair and has a brother with shocking similarities in look, invited me to his home. Given, Lupin, I already was there when he offered me the invitation (the Weasley's are far too kind, my father is a vile man and had only insulted their entire family not even a full 24 hours before I was in there home, drinking their tea!) but still._

 _I snuck off, I did. It was all very Teenage Rebellion, it was wonderful._

 _Until it wasn't, of course, because some upper power absolutely_ loathes _me. I have no clue why, first they make my biological father be a Death Eater, next they kill my mother, then they make sure I grow up not knowing that I actually have two sets of parents and now they make sure that Lucius Malfoy, my dear old dad, knows that I snuck off to the Weasley's._

 _Maybe he doesn't know, perhaps, maybe he's just trying to scare me. That does seem to be right up his alley._

 _Anyway – enough about my silly old teenage problems. How have you been keeping up? School stars up again in about a week, I'm bricking it. In the space of a week I'll have had my ball, picked three suitable potential husbands and have received my Hogwarts letter. Which still hasn't come. I'm getting worried about it, quite frankly._

 _I think I'll be off, now, before I end up writing you an entire biography of my life – while enthralling and exciting as it would be, I don't have the patience nor time to do so._

 _My upmost highest regards,_

 _Andria_

 _Dear Andria,_

 _Egypt was fucking awesome._

 _Nuff said._

 _I keep feeling like I should score that out – what if mother dearest reads over my shoulder and sees that her precious daughter misspelt a word, a word that was, no doubt, SLANG?! She'd foam at the mouth, I'm sure of it._

 _But I don't care, Andi, I simply don't care anymore._

 _Why, I hear you asking?_

 _I met a lush lad where we were staying – he was Pureblood, handsome, intelligent, funny and he made me go weak in the knees, Andria. I have never felt that way about a bloke before – given that the boys in our year are a little rank. I mean – Austin Travers? No thanks._

 _He was perfect, Andi, he really was. But of course, Astoria is a detestable little_ wench _and she let it slip during tea that I was meeting with a bloke. Father is having none of it and ended our trip a few days early. I really hate having sisters – I'll swap them for Draco any old day of the weak._

 _Sigh. Our lives are surely tragic, aren't they?_

 _I'm away to go pour boiling water over Astoria's face or something, make her look as ugly as she is on the inside on the outside._

 _Your dearest,_

 _Lizzy xo_

 _Elizabeth Greengrass,_

 _You leave my baby Astoria alone, won't you? She's twelve. And adorable._

 _Whatever you do to her, I'll do to you._

 _Bite me, Greengrass,_

 _Andria Malfoy_

 _Lizzy,_

 _Now I can write with less hostility as I have scolded you – hopefully successfully too. Lets' talk about this chap, shall we?_

"I just don't understand how Matilda thinks she can get away with such preposterous ideas, you know?" Narcissa asked, taking an idle sip of her tea. The duo – mother and daughter – sat in Madam Puddifoot's, Narcissa talked ( _rambled_ more like) about her other female pureblooded community members, thinking herself highly above the majority and sharing the playing field with only a few. Andria checked over her letters that she had written and received, had charmed them just before she left the house to look like a journal of sorts. Narcissa didn't care, as long as Andria would hum and agree at the correct intervals she never would, either.

"Thinking beyond herself." Andria muttered, lifting her eyes from her letter momentarily to look at her mother, dipping her quill into the small ink pot as she did so.

"Exactly what I was thinking!" Narcissa exclaimed, leaning back and shaking her head with her nose upturned. "She just gets these silly notions sometimes."

 _You say he was handsome, how so? Rugged and sexy like Lukas Cornfield in that last edition of_ Witch Weekly _or hot and adorable like Brian Brooke in Gryffindor? Don't lie, Greengrass, you think he's good looking too._

 _Also, weak in the knees? Like, full of sexual tension weak in the knees or he's-so-good-looking-my-limbs-cease-to-support-me weak in the knees?_

 _As for fathers who don't want to see their eldest children happy, I understand. Honestly, my father is being more than detestable and aggravating as of late._

Andria looked up through her lashes at her mother who was still talking passionately and enthusiastically. She couldn't help but smile a little.

 _If you really,_ really _want to have Draco, you can take him. Mother and father may object, but mother loves robe shopping and all things girl and if you promise that any child Draco produces will keep the family name then it'll be a set deal. It'll take a while for them to come around, but they'll get there eventually._

 _I'm in Puddifoot's right now with mother, we're to go dress robe shopping after and I'm dreading it. I tried to talk her out of going to Gladrags (even called it sadrags) but she's insistent. Father said stubbornness was the Black in her, but I think she's just a stubborn wench by nature. I like Gladrags, but the happy memories I have in there with you and Mer are going to be tainted by my mothers incessant yapping._

 _Have you received your Hogwarts letter yet? Draco got his a few days ago but mines is nowhere in sight. I'm dying to see who got Prefect, if you have got your letter, was it you?_

 _If it was; Congratulations, Lizzy! You'll make a fabulous prefect! You can give me points for eating only two slices of toast in the morning instead of the greedy amount of five and you can turn a blind eye when Mer causes mischief! I am so proud of you, my love!_

 _If it isn't; You're too good to be prefect, anyway. Only terrible swots get that, and you, my love, are no swot._

"What are you scribbling away at in your diary, anyway?" Narcissa asked pleasantly, a small smile playing on her lips obviously approving of such feminine tasks.

"Worrying about my Hogwarts letter." Andria replied. It wasn't the biggest lie she had told, really.

"That's what girls aged fifteen –soon to be _sixteen_ –choose to write about? My, Andria, I thought you would have had a little more imagination that that." A teasing smile played on her mothers lip and Andria regretted opening hers at all.

 _I'm signing off here, my sweet, I think my mother is about to take me on a trip down her memory lane and I'll be feeling incredibly disgruntled and unhappy afterwards._

 _With all my love,_

"If only you could see the things I wrote about in _my_ diary." Narcissa said with a wistful sigh.

"That would require _actually_ wanting to take a look at it." Andria mumbled.

"A lot more secrets… juicy details, boys –"

"Mother, I am going to stop you _right there_." Andria cut in quickly. Narcissa smiled, draining the remains of her tea. "In my mind you're celibate, you don't even _like_ boys or girls, you're – you're _asexual_. You and father are just really, _really_ good mates, and that's –" Andria stops when her mother started to laughed. Head thrown back, smiling largely and melodic string falling from her mouth. "What?" Andria asked, eyes narrowing.

"You're adorable." Narcissa cooed almost teasingly before standing, brushing down her dress robes and placing two galleons on the table. "Come on." She murmured softly, looking at her daughter with soft, doting eyes. "Let's go look at things for your ball, now, shall we?"

 _Andria. Xoxo_

Andria left the quill and ink pot on the table – she owns plenty anyway – and tucked her disguised letters into her bag. "Yeah." She mumbled. "Let's go." The pair leave, leaving behind two shiny coins, a feathered quill, a pot of ink and something short of a bonding moment, the latter would be sure to follow them on, of course.


	42. Chapter 42

The pin feels foreign in her hand. The cool metal is almost an insult. Its green glow was unfathomable, a joke, surely. Snape had, obviously, mustered up some sort of humour during the holidays – maybe it was the rise of the Dark Mark which had inspired it – and he had to play a practical joke. Andria sneered at it. _Prefect_. What a funny little pin.

A knock on the door interrupts her thoughts of self-demise. "Was that your Hogwarts letter?" Narcissa asked, poking her head around the door almost timidly.

"Uh – yeah. Yeah, it was." She mumbled, clutching her pin in her hand and putting both behind her, giving an innocent smile.

"Mumbling." Narcissa scolded, but there was no heat and the smile on her face said that she didn't really mean it. "What books do you need, my little OWL student?"

Andria snorted, closing her eyes and shaking her head lightly. "All new ones, I think, haven't really looked through the list."

"I wonder why yours came late…" Andria had a sneaking suspicion, but there wasn't a chance she'd come out with the fact that she got Prefect, not just yet. "Let me see your list and I'll see if you need all new –"

"It's fine." Andria interrupted with slight urgency. Narcissa raised her eyebrows critically, asking her wordlessly what the cause of her snappy behaviour was. "Sorry." She apologised, trying to sound sincere but failing miserably. Narcissa pursed her lips and tipped her head to the side, studying Andria silently. "I was thinking of going back to Diagon Alley today, maybe I'll take some money this time. My mouth was flooding every time I walked past Fortescue's, it was pure torture."

"Give me about an hour and I'll join –"

"No, no." Andria said quickly, offering a tight smile. "I was hoping to go… on my own."

"Oh. Oh, alright."

"Great." Andria ignored the look of mild rejection on her mother's face. It would be better if she didn't dwell. "Well, I'll be getting ready, then."

"Yeah." Narcissa said softly before clearing her throat, straightening up and nodding firmly, her eyes going cold, emotionless and hard in the blink of an eye. "Yes." She repeated with more eloquence. "You better be getting ready. And put on a lighter shade of lipstick and lay back on the mascara. I can't have my daughter looking like a cheap French whore." With that, Narcissa left Andria's room, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Andria listened to the sound of her heels against the hardwood floor get fainter the further she went with a scowl.

She picked up the nearest cloak of a lighter shade – it was pastel pink, it was perfect –, turning to her mirror and rubbing it at her lips harshly, smearing her lipstick over the fabric. Scoffing at the shade of light pink left behind, she picked up her darkest shade of red, applying it generously. "Now I look like an _expensive_ French whore." She mumbled to her reflection, discarding of the cloak, letting it flutter to the floor.

She picked up a quill and parchment, scribbling a quick note. Once done, she whistled for Tabitha, only waiting mere seconds before the owl was perched on her mirror, looking down at one of her owners with wide, curious eyes. "You know where to go, my love, don't you?" Andria cooed, attaching the letter to Tabitha's leg with gentle ease. Once done, the owl let out a low hoot and flew out the window. Andria watched her until she was nothing but a small dot in the sky.

 _I'll be making use of that invitation again, if that's alright. As I write, it's 1325 hours, I'll be there by 1400 hours at the latest._

 _Andria._

/ / /

"Hey." Andria choked out as her feet made contact with the fireplace in the Weasley household. Fred and George were immediately on hand, taking it in turns to bat her down with a cloth to remove all the soot. Andria didn't remember asking to be mauled by a mangy old wash cloth, but she kept her mouth firmly shut on the matter.

"'Lo." George murmured, passing the cloth to Fred, who grinning crookedly and tipped his head in greeting. Fred began hitting her with the cloth.

"Is there reasoning to this madness or are you just enjoying beating me?" Andria asked, smiling slightly as they bustled her out from within the fireplace.

"Enjoy beating you?" George echoed.

"Nonsense, woman!" Fred exclaimed, throwing the cloth to his brother, who resumed the ferocious pat down.

"We're removing the Floo soot, of course."

"Ah." Andria simpered, giving a small nod. "You now, I _knew_ there was something in my home lacking elegance and grace. Obviously, it's being beaten down by a washcloth after a tedious few seconds twisting from one fireplace to another. I'll tell my father of the lack of standards as soon as I reach home."

"You mean to say, Mini Malfoy," Fred drawled, folding his arms and looking at her with a mocking look, "that the grand old Mansion of the Malfoy name doesn't have _soot beaters_? How do you go _on_?"

"I'm beginning to wonder the same thing." Andria sniffed, feigning sadness and regret. She sobered and grinned, clapping Fred on the shoulder. "And it's a _manor_. Geez, Fred, get it _right_ next time."

"Oh, I am _so_ terribly sorry, my dear lady." Fred apologised sardonically, rolling his eyes heavily.

"Are you going to stop beating me, then? I think all of the soot has been scared off." Andria said lightly, looking down at George who was crouched before her, flicking the cloth in all directions.

"I'm waiting for the black stuff to come off, Ands." He muttered and Andria frowned at the nickname but chose not to comment. "Can't have an unsatisfied customer, can we?"

"My dress is black, perhaps that's clouding your vision."

George stopped his beating and took a second to properly scan over her dress before he hummed loudly. "Oh yeah. My mistake. Well, you're all polished off then." He got to his feet, stuffing the cloth into Fred's hands. "Just couldn't keep away from m'abode, could you?" He asked with a large smile.

"I like it." Andria said, and she really did. It looked lived in, which was a nice change from the stoic, emptiness of the Malfoy Manor. Fred raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. George didn't look at her. "What are you guys going to be up to, anyway? More Quidditch?"

"Probably, yeah." George shrugged.

"Was that what you were doing before you got my letter?"

"No, no. Quidditch isn't _all_ we do, Mini Malfoy." Fred said absently, twisting the cloth in his hands, looking at the fireplace anxiously.

"Is something the matter?" She asked curiously, stepping to the side to look at the empty fireplace with the two brothers.

"We're waiting for Charlie." George muttered. "You were our… let's say practice run."

"For, may I ask?"

"You may." Fred said with a small grin.

"The cloth batting. You were our practice."

"Planning on making it a career, are you?"

The twins didn't reply, instead, they attacked the smoke that billowed from the fireplace with vigour, humming and singing tunelessly over the loud shouts of objection. Charlie Weasley, the Twins suspected victim, stumbled from the smoke, trying to bat back at the cloth while hacking up the soot that his two younger brothers were trying so hard to make go away. Andria was caught between wanting to help poor Charlie Weasley who had helped her out with her foot after the Quidditch World Cup attack, or laughing at his undignified shrieks of torment. Instead, she stood awkwardly staring with wide eyes and a slightly slack mouth.

" _Boys_!" Came a shrill shriek from the kitchen. Mrs Weasley stormed on through, eyes flaring and hands balled into fists by her sides, her wand sticking out from her right hand almost threateningly. "Fred! George!" The Twins stopped with their beating and Charlie let out a grateful sigh of relief.

"Bloody sociopaths!" Charlie crowed, glaring at his younger brothers.

"We were only trying to help you, Charlie." Fred said, pleading his innocence with his eyes. "We did it to Andria when she Flooed in, too!" All eyes were drawn to her, Mrs Weasley and Charlie taking note of her existence within their living space.

"Andria." Mrs Weasley said with a kind smile. "It's lovely to see you again."

"You too, Mrs Weasley." Andria replied with a smile that could blind. "It's a pleasure to see you again, too, Charlie."

"Yeah." The elder Weasley brother murmured. "Good to see you too, kid. Hope my brother's weren't _too_ violent…"

"Nonsense!" George crowed, clapping a hand softly on Andria's shoulder and leaving it there. "We were nothing more that pleasant and kind, weren't we, Freddie?"

"Oh, absolutely!" Fred agreed enthusiastically, but his eyes rifted towards Andria's shoulder and George's hand a few times. Charlie saw the distraction and made a quick getaway, eyeing the cloth in Fred's hand heavily as he did so.


	43. Chapter 43

"Should I be concerned of the faint smell of explosive weapons or should I ignore it completely?" Andria asked timidly, sitting down on one of the beds within the twins room. Fred had run off to play three-a-side Quidditch, taking the last place in the game leaving George on the ground. Andria didn't mind, not at all, it meant that she could bypass all of the awkward small talk that Hermione tried to keep up while they watched the Weasley brood and Harry whizz around on their brooms. George had been right the night of the Quidditch World Cup attack – he was the person she knew the most in his family and that meant a great deal in terms of being comfortable. "Nothing you should be worrying about, Andria, you know Fred and I, we'd never do anything _dangerous_." George quipped, his back was turned and Andria didn't know him well enough to know if he was teasing without looking at his face.

"Oh." She said quietly because if their reputation was wholly accurate, (and in the time she had known them, it seemed like it was) then they were prone to finding danger and wreaking havoc. "Alright then." George rummaged about a bit, slyly kicking some of the mess on the floor under the bed, Andria began to wonder if he was cleaning for her or if it was a natural instinct. "I think my father followed me the other day, when I came round here." Andria commented casually, looking at the Quidditch posters that lined the walls, curling at the edges.

"Really?" George asked, turning his head ever so slightly to catch her eye for a few seconds.

"Well, I don't think he as much followed me as he did bribe a few Leaky Cauldron residents into choking up that they saw me, but even then he couldn't take their word for it in case they're lying for his gold or to escape his more likeable death threat."

"Oh, Lucius Malfoy, ever the true charmer." George snorted, turning back to the trunk he was previously rifling through, giving it his full attention. "What did he say when you got home?"

"That I _wasn't to do it again_. It was all very mysterious."

"Not to do it again… and yet, here you are, something tells me that you, little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, is rebelling." George turned to Andria with a wicked grin that she returned.

"Something like that, I guess." Andria shrugged. "He was probably trying to get me to reveal that I was lying, I think." She mused, bring all of her hair around her left shoulder and brushing her fingers through the tips. She used her other hand to fan slowly at her face, closing her eyes lightly completely unaware of the set of eyes that were staring at her intently. "You know, all of this pureblood etiquette and rules are the absolute _worst_ when it's summer and you're forced into robes that just _have_ to go at least down to your ankles or you're deemed a whore." Her eyes snapped open and her hands ceased to move. George averted his gaze, sitting himself on the bed opposite Andria to give him something to do for a few seconds. "My mother called me a cheap, French whore today." She said coolly. George blanched. "Yeah, I think she said it to hurt me, I mean my robes come to my ankles _and_ I'm wearing closed toe heels. I've checked all the boxes on being _frigid_." George let out a snort, leaning back on his arms. "I guess she was hurt when I denied her request to come to Diagon Alley with me and I was sort of rude to her before that, too, but I was caught off guard, you know? I didn't expect me to get _prefect_ , I thought for sure that it was going to Elizabeth, I mean she's –"

"Wait _what_?" George interrupted with a large, crooked grin.

"Say what you want about Elizabeth, but when you get to know her she's really nice and _dead_ smart –"

"Not about your friend, I don't care about your friend. I care about _you_ getting _prefect_!" George erupted into peals of laughter and Andria couldn't help but smile. She leaned forwards across the small patch of floor to swat at his leg.

"Shut up." She murmured. "I didn't ask for it!"

"Wait a second." George said, collecting himself. "Does this mean that you'll be giving Fred and I detentions at every turn or will you forward us your patrol timetable so that we can go out after curfew on the nights you're on?"

"Eugh, sod _off_." She groaned, giving an exaggerated pout. "You're the first person I've told and you're taking the piss out of me, this isn't _fair_." She whined, shoulders slumping.

"You didn't tell your mum?" George asked curiously. "Not even when she was in your room?"

"I basically bit her hand off when she asked to see my book list."

"Aw, poor _Andria_." George cooed, sticking a finger under her chin and wriggling it about. "Is the little pureblood princess _embarrassed_?"

"Sod off." She grinned, batting his hand away. "I don't even know _why_ I hid it, in all honesty. Mother would be ecstatic! She never made prefect when she was at school and she's always chirping on about how wonderful it would be if at least _one_ of her children made the role she never. My father made it, slick git as he is, although I don't think he bought his way into that role, so I suppose it's an achievement on his part." George fell back onto the bed, howling with a fresh set of laughter. Andria tried her best to frown, but the sheer genuine laughter that erupted from the boy across from her was rather contagious that she couldn't help but let out a little giggle with him.

After a few minutes of non-stop laughing from the both of them, they resolved into a comfortable silent, each of them grinning foolishly. "You really are the definition of a pureblood princess, aren't you?" George teased. "High achiever, _prefect_. You're an absolute package."

Andria snorted. "If only my father thought the same thing. No, I've been tarnished by Lewis Campbell's lips, of course. Utterly and completely useless, now. I don't understand why, I mean people knew about know I something short of snogged Gregory Goyle and yet I _still_ had applicators wanting my hand." George's face went unpredictably and uncharacteristically sour. Andria waved her hand through the air with a new found urgency of not wanting George to be mad at her even though she had no knowing as to why he was. "Anyway," she said tersely "enough about my eligibility. If I wanted a good, lengthy conversation about that then I'd go home. What's this?" She asked, picking up a piece of parchment from the bedside cabinet and peering at it.

"That?" George asked, his face going to its natural state of a smile. He lifted himself from the bed he sat on to sit by Andria, looking at the plans he and Fred had conjured up. "That's a design for the box of sweets me and Fred invented."

"You and Fred invented _sweets_?" Andria asked with shock. " _Ton-Tongue Toffee_ …" Andria read to herself. "Ton-Tongue?" She repeated.

George beamed. "Yeah, it's great. It's a prank sweet, of course. When the person eats it their tongue gets really big and heavy – a ton in weight to be exact."

"Have you tried it out yet?" Andria inquired, she found it hard to believe that there would be willing participants ready to subject themselves to any of _that_.

"Yeah, we did in fact. It works superbly. We tried it on Harry's cousin, sure he wasn't _willing_ but he was a –"

"Wait," Andria interrupted with a confused look. "Dorea Black only had _one_ child, which was Harry's dad." She said slowly, trying to recall the old pictured Narcissa had in one of her many photo albums of the Black family tree. "Harry's mother however… _George_! Did you try out your sweets on a _muggle_?"

"Yeah, but it's alright, dad fixed it after –"

"What about the Statue of Secrecy?" Andria demanded with wide eyes. "You could – _you could get charged_!"

"Relax." George attempted to soothe, smiling largely. "It's fine. Harry's whale of a cousin knows all about magic, he lives with him after all. I didn't break any rules and I will not be seeing the walls of Azkaban anytime soon."

Andria eyes him warily. "Safe or not." She sniffed. "You shouldn't have done that, it could have gone south. You have to remember, George, it was only Harry's father who was pureblood, his mother was a mud –" Andria shut her mouth tightly, eyes going wide at the near slip of the tongue she made. It didn't go unnoticed by George, either. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her calculatedly. "I am _so_ sorry." She apologised. "I didn't – it was a slip of the tongue, _fuck_. I really didn't – I should probably leave. My mother will be wondering where I am. Yes, I should definitely go." Andria stood up hastily. "Thank you for your hospitality, really, it has been greatly appreciated. I – I must be off, now. Have a good day." She made a quick exit from George's room, determined not to be disheartened by the lack of footsteps that followed her. She made it to the fireplace unnoticed and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. Stepping in and blinking back angry, resentful tears, she slammed down the powder and said angrily "The Leaky Cauldron!" The green flames consumed her, eating her up and swallowing her whole, taking her away from the Weasley's household where her ignorance would not be tolerated to a space where it would be overlooked. Within the next ten minutes, she was transported to a place where her ignorance was not only shared, but encouraged. "Andria, dear, you're home early." Narcissa said with slight shock.

"What can I say?" Andria muttered bitterly, her insides eating themselves with self-loathing. She had just called Harry Bloody Potter's mother a mudblood. Her heart pounded within her chest but she was determined to keep a cool exterior. "I finished my whore duties early, thought I'd come home instead of waiting around at my corner all the longer waiting for some cheapskate to chuck a knut at me." With that, Andria stomped angry out of the room, her mouth dry and her heart tight.

 _Dear Lupin_. She wrote harshly, digging her quill into the parchment with angry resentment.

 _I really fucked up._


	44. Chapter 44

"When is it people begin to arrive?"

"Thirty minutes past five, Missus." The house elf squeaked, grabbing the strings of Andria's corset and tugging hard. Andria gasped, the sensation of her internal organs being squished together was – unsurprisingly – unpleasant altogether.

"And what is the time now?"

"Twenty four minutes past three, Missus."

Andria groaned, a mixture of distaste for having to be crammed in a corset for even more unnecessary hours and the strings being tugged viciously again. "Could you be a little more delicate?" Andria snapped, clenching her hands by her sides.

"Gnibby is apologetic, missus! But Mistress told Gnibby _clear as day_ that I is not to hold back – you has to look your bestest!"

"Isn't my mother _darling_ today?" Andria sneered, pressing a hand to her forehead and wincing uncomfortably as the house elf tugged at the ribbons. Gnibby let out a squeal, troubled by listening to someone bash his mistress so openly. "Where's Draco? Is he getting ready too?"

"Gnibby has to tell Mister to get ready at four on the dot!" The elf chirped.

Andria grumbled miserably. "Pompous prat." She muttered. "Is this enough? It feels like all of my organs have been combined into one – _surely_ I've suffered enough? I'll cry, if that's what mother dearest wants and you can tell her what a snotty nosed little brat I looked and acted like." Gnibby said nothing, just let out another squeak.

Another half hour of agonising concealment, Gnibby left the room with a crack. Andria heaved herself from the dressing table, stumbling over to the window, throwing it open, drawing in large breaths of fresh air. She remained there for several minutes, looking out onto the grounds that bustled silently in the summer winds. It was peaceful, pleasantly so. _The calm before the storm_ , Andria thought bitterly, her relaxed featured turning to a sneer. A sharp series of knocks interrupted her from her crass thoughts. Lucius swept in seconds later, closing the door behind him gently. Either he didn't want his wife to know he was chatting with her or this was his attempt at being something short of caring. "You look well." Lucius said instead of a greeting.

"I _look_ malnourished. Seriously, what is the point in these? All it's doing is making myself have undesirable and not to mention unnatural curves with a side order of organ malfunction. It's almost like the pureblood community's expectations of young woman is so that they die early."

Lucius remained silent, he blinked a few times probably trying to indicate that Andria's rambling was lost on him – or perhaps he simply just didn't care.

"What brings you here?" She asked, pushing herself away from the window and back over to her dresser.

"I just wanted to make sure that you knew the… _rules_ of tonight." He traced a finger along Andria's own personal bookshelf filled with romance novels that he had probably never heard of in his entire existence, choosing to read the more intricate and deathly books that the Ministry would probably faint at if they even so much as caught a glimpse.

"No murder. Speak when spoken too. Don't turn Draco into a quaffle and throw him about the room. Don't turn Draco into a _Bludger_ and hit him with a beaters bat. Don't turn Draco into a snitch and –"

"The only one you've gotten even remotely correct so far is speak only when spoken too, but, because this event is for _you_ , it doesn't apply to tonight." Lucius looked slightly bewildered, making Andria turn her head and smirk into the mirror.

"So, what's you're saying is that murder _is_ acceptable? Because it's not a rule?"

"Murder is _never_ tolerated." He said stiffly.

"So are we all just going to ignore your Death Eater phase in the late seventies going on very early eighties as a family, then?"

Lucius drew and impatient breath, shooting her an irritated glance. "Behave tonight, Andria. You should consider yourself lucky that I have allowed you to keep with our arrangement. Test me any further and you may find your list narrowing to three without your opinion." He swept from the room, closing the door with a quiet click behind him. Andria sneered, picking up a tub of moisturiser with great discontent.

/ / /

"You look gorgeous."

Andria lifted her eyes and stared at her mother through the mirror. "Thank you." She murmured in reply because even though she was mad, she still had manners. "What shade should I put on?" She asked, motioning to her line up of lipsticks. "I don't want to embarrass you by looking like a – what was it you called me? A cheap French whore?" Narcissa clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and crossed the room, resting her arms on the back of Andria's chair. She watched as Andria coated her lashes with mascara silently.

"You're breaking my heart, you know." Narcissa spoke softly after a long minute, her lips forming a thin, tight line as she awaited Andria's response.

Andria capped her mascara, picking up a plum shade of lipstick. "Well then." She said at length. "We can be twins because you broke my heart, too." Narcissa stayed silent and Andria avoided her saddened eyes that watched her carefully through the mirror.

"Alright, then." Narcissa whispered, stepping back and making her way to the door. She turned around before leaving completely, the sad glint in her eyes not disappearing. "You really do look beautiful, Andria." Narcissa left, closing the door behind her before Andria could respond if she really desired to. She didn't, she had no plans on attending to her manners.

She was left alone for all of two minutes before a loud crack cut through the silence. "You look wonderfuls, Missus!" Gnibby exclaimed happily.

Andria turned and smiled at the house elf. "And you, Gnibby, look like an absolute gem! As always, of course." The small creature blushed and stuttered. "You're a dear. Is it time for me to go down?"

"Indeed it is, Missus." Andria let out a shallow sigh, getting to her feet and brushing down the front of her dress robes.

The foyer was bustling with people from ages thirteen and upwards. Spirits were high and conversation was flowing. It was ideal, Andria mused to herself, it was the perfect picture of what a party in your honour should look like. While she resented the underlying intentions, she revelled in the amount of people who turned up for _her_. "You look alright, I guess." Andria turned to her right and watched as Draco swaggered up to her, hands shoved in the pockets of his dress robes.

"I know." Andria replied boldly, placing her hands on the banister and resuming her looking at the gaggle of people. "You clean up okay, too, I guess."

"I know." Draco mimicked. "I don't see Campbell, did you not send him an invite?"

"Of course I didn't." Andria scoffed. "Father would kill him, wouldn't he? He's of more use to me with his heart beating and limbs intact, really."

Draco's face scrunched up. "That's disgusting, why did you have to say that to me?"

"Well, you're the one who asked." Andria sniffed. "Have you seen Father yet? Or Mother for that matter?"

"No, I haven't, I've only seen you. I'm assuming that they'll be talking to the elves, instructing them to pass around champagne before you make your debut as a professional speech maker." Draco mumbled, resting his arms on the banister, looking at the mounds of people that continued to enter their home. "Look!" He whispered frantically, pointing into the crowd. "The _Minister for Magic_ is here!" Draco cackled gleefully as Andria's face drained of colour. "Good luck with your speech, Andi, by the looks of it, you're going to –"

"Be completely fine." Narcissa slipped into view, Lucius trailing behind her like an obedient dog. "I think you're forgetting, my son, that you'll be in this position within the next few, short years. By that time, Andria will have picked a suitor and he'll be invited, taking all of his family's associates. For instance, I have it on good word that the Travers family are rather close with the French Minister. You'll have a bigger audience to perform in front of." Narcissa smiled coolly, standing to Andria's left, turning her attention to the masses of people. "If you're supportive of her now, she'll maybe give you some pointers when it's your time."

A crack sounded from behind them and nobody flinched. Gnibby pottered at their ankles holding a delicate, silver tray baring four flutes of champagne. "Bloody hell," Andria muttered, watching as bright flashes of the cameras below silenced the room, all eyes going to the Malfoy's standing at the second floor, overlooking them all. "Is that _reporters_?" She asked from the corner of her mouth.

"You can't seriously think that a beautiful _pureblooded_ girl making her transition from strictly single to open for available suitors wouldn't attract the attention of magazines who want to be a part of our community, did you?" Narcissa asked smoothly, not tripping over a single word. "You're making your debut. You'll be talked about for at _least_ a week. That's why you needed to look your best – we're lucky that Valentina Karofski heard of your situation and sent a dress from her collection. White has always been an elegant colour on you."

Andria smiled tightly, taking a flute of champagne from the tray and smiling radiantly down at the crowd. _Relax_ , she told herself, _they won't care if you make mistakes, they're expecting mistakes_. "Welcome." She said over the noise of the whispers that had started up in the silence. She snuck a glance at her mother, who smiled and gave her a slight nod of her head. "Welcome." Andria repeated with more confidence and boldness. "I'd like to first start off by saying thank you all for attending. As the new school term is fast approaching, I'm sure that the last thing you all want to worry about is what you're going to wear to a ball celebrating and thrown for a fifteen year old girl, but you all did so anyway. For that I thank you." Andria smiled, scanning the foyer, beaming largely when her eyes landed upon Elizabeth, who grinned right back. "Second of all is a thank you to everyone who has supported me through my fifteen years on earth. Almost sixteen. First of September, if you all want to write that into your diaries along with my address…" Andria waited for the pleasant laughter that bubbled from the guests to die down. "You know who you are and I wouldn't not like to bore everyone with the details of your identity.

"I suppose," she continued "I should make special allowances for my family." If it wasn't silent before, it definitely was now. Rumour, of course, had spread that the number of legitimate Malfoy spawns had went from two down to one. This was wonderful news to anyone being a proud owner of ears and eyes within their community, all of their own young girls would be elevated as Andria would be beat into the ground as no known biological barer had stepped forwards to claim their creation – how could they when her real mother was dead and her father locked away, rotting into insanity in Azkaban? Everyone had probably been waiting with bated breath for her first public appearance as an outed non-Malfoy. Sourly, Andria came to the realisation that a large majority of guests had probably turned up just to get a glimpse into the family life and tensions of the Malfoy Manor and with a mixture of bitterness and her original state of sour she noted that had she not been in such a foul mood, she would have come to that conclusion much quicker. "Personally, I feel like there will never be enough words in any language to sum up how entirely grateful and thankful I am to my family. Family is one of the few things in life who love you unconditionally and uncontrollably. And while we Malfoy's have a reputation for being notoriously presumptuous and the likes, we are by no means immune by this." She finished rather awkwardly. "Sanctimonia Vincet Semper." She lulled, tipping her flute upwards. She could see the glistening white of her father's teeth as he grinned appreciatively of the Malfoy family trademark from the corner of her eye. The guests all raised their own glasses and Andria had never been more grateful to drain an alcoholic substance in her entire life. The crowd got back to chattering (no doubt about the lack of dram so far) and Lucius made it his duty to quite literally shove Andria into the crowds of people, encouraging her to meet with her suitors, their families and anyone else who "bothered to show up for god knows what reason" – it was the very bitter turn to his tone that ensured her that it wasn't a personal jab, but a goad at the people below them.

"That was quite a speech." Andria turned and gave the woman with pinned back, tight, blonde curls a smile. Andria turned to her and gave her that look of flatter that she had plastered to her face for the past ten minutes as she graciously accepted compliments about her speech making skills and tried not to gnaw on their heads as they would coo about _how much you look like your mother!_ "Thank you." Andria smiled, bowing her head in appreciation.

"Rita." The woman offered her a hand, one which she shook delicately. "Your parents would be proud."

"Oh, they are." She said shortly, smiling just so she wouldn't come across blunt and ungrateful.

"Oh." The woman – Rita – nearly scoffed. Andria stood taller, her skin prickling with uncertainty. "I'm sure the Mister and Missus Malfoy are very proud of you, dear," the woman's' voice ran like velvet and Andria didn't trust it a single bit "but I'm sure your biological parents, too, would be extremely proud. Standing in front of hundreds of people and speaking so – so _boldly_ and with so much confidence, one would think that you've made speeches before." Andria's mouth filled with bile. She stared at this Rita woman unblinking and unmoving. She watched as her mouth turned into one of a sneer. She forced herself to smile, uncaring how bitter it looked – a mood had been building in her for days, and she now deemed it unnecessary to even attempt polite formalities when this insignificant Rita woman didn't even try it for herself.

"I don't know who you think you are, but you have absolutely _no_ right whatsoever to speak to me like that." Her voice was low, threatening and there was no sign of a quiver. Andria's insides swelled with pride at her own confidence. "You'd better watch your tongue, spouting these absurd accusations. It's things like that that end up with you seeking professional help." Rita's eyes narrowed into slits. "I suggest you leave my home and my land immediately. Consider yourself lucky that I never got my father involved, I hear he can be very… _persuasive_ when he sees fit." Andria stayed rooted to place, raising a critical eyebrow and watched on as Rita fumed silently, a frown pinching at her features as she walked towards the exit. She stayed there until she was completely gone. "Gnibby." She said sharply and a crack sounded by her feet, the small elf peering at her curiously. "Make sure that woman I was just speaking to doesn't get back into this house again."

"Yes, Miss!" Gnibby squeaked and another crack sounded and the elf vanished into thin air.

"The party has barely been going for ten minutes and you have already thrown someone out."

"She was bothering me." Andria said simply, tearing her gaze from the door and to Draco, who looked more bemused than he did scolding.

"Don't all reporters do that? Especially that Skeeter, Father said she's been stirring some trouble at the ministry for quite a bit."

"Reporter?" Andria echoed. Her lips moulded into a cruel smirk. "That explains her brazen attitude, then." She twisted her body around to fully face her younger sibling. "She was taunting me with… my lack of biological parents, shall I call it. Can I trust that all I said to her, however crude and unbecoming that may have been, will not make it front page or should I round up my fatherly guard dog at once?"

"She works for the Prophet. Anything set to be published about you will be edited out immediately." Draco's gaze went cold and he looked over the mass of guests. "Perhaps we have your fatherly guard dog to thank for that."

Andria pursed her lips. "Perhaps."

/ / /

"Why, Miss Malfoy, there is but mere minutes left of this wonderful get together and you have not spared me, one of your suitors, a single dance…" Astoria turned, facing Austin Travers with a look of great disdain. He extended his hand in beckoning and before she could refuse, her eyes were drawn to the duo of blondes standing in the far corner, staring intently. Rolling her eyes at both the boy before her and her mother and father's habit of being annoyingly intrusive, she took his hand gently. "Tread on my feet and I will break your kneecaps." She said with an innocent smile. Travers grinned, taking a small step closer so their chests were nearly touching and grabbing at her waist. With a great deal of reluctance, Andria placed a hand on his shoulder. As the new song started up, they glided effortlessly to the music. "You're friends with that accent, aren't you?" He asked, a roguish grin sweeping his face.

"If by _that accent_ you mean Meredith, then yes, I am friends with her." Andria spoke, narrowing her eyes with suspicion. "Why?"

"Well, there are many reasons _why_ , Malfoy." He tutted with a goading eye roll. "For one, she is hot. Incredibly so, and her accent makes it so much better. Two, she's not one of those prissy, prudish, stuck up pureblood girls. No offence, doll, but she's not like you."

"Offence taken." She said drily.

"Three," Travers powered on "I'd love to get my hands on her tits. Her arse, too, but mainly her tits, they're fucking gorgeous." His eyes flicked down to the not-so-modest neck line of Andria's dress, something that her mother had nearly wept at, proclaiming loudly that she looked so 'grown up'. Andria was really just surprised that there was no more comparisons to French prostitutes to fling about. "Yours are pretty standard, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do mind, but I also know you don't care."

Travers smirked and shrugged. "You've got me down to a pin, Malfoy."

"What a tragic thing to say about yourself, you must be incredibly shallow."

"If you'd let me, Miss Malfoy, I can show you how _deep_ I really am." Travers' eyes went dark as he pressed his forehead to hers, his arm sliding slowly around the curve of her waist to the pit of her back and further down to the round of her arse. Against her will, her eyes closed and she inhaled his scent – it was manly, a disgusting type of manly, like a young boy being let loose amok in his father's cupboards, testing out all the nice smelling potions. There was a sickening part of Andria that enjoyed it. She forced herself into a respectable stance, roughly dragging his arm from the curve of her bum back to its rightful place at her waist. "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy that." He whispered huskily, a roguish smirk on his features. "I saw the flutter of your little eyes, Malfoy, and I've only seen that look on girls in rather… _compromising_ positions."

"The look of pure disgust?" She pondered, knowing her look was anything but.

"You're a right minx."

"And you a pig."

"You should wear white more often." He ignored her comment in bid to marvel at her dress. "It displays your virtue, and Andria, virtue is one of the most _sexiest_ things a girl could have."

"Which is why you intend on destroying every respectable girl's at school?" She tipped her head to the side in questioning. He smirked and shrugged.

"It's a contradictory trait of mine." He shrugged once again. "Virgins are just so… _wonderful_." The hand on her waist travelled up her body to press against her bare back. She shuddered at his cold touch, trying to arch away from him. His eyes sparkled. Andria tried to find his behaviour disgusting, destroying, even, but the pit of her stomach was soaring. "You know, since you kissed that Goyle I often found myself wondering what type you were…" A morbid, unforgivable sense of curiosity absorbed her. "There's the ones who cry." He whispered, eyes nearly blown black with lust and want.

"I'd cry too, if it were with you."

"There's the shy ones." He slipped his hand back down to her waist, continuing on as if she hadn't spoken at all, appearing so disinterested in her last insult that Andria wasn't so sure if she even _had_ said it out loud. "Then there's the downright _filthy_ ones. The one you just fucking _know_ have been thinking about cock since the moment they were told about sex." Abruptly, he spun her fluidly, and even in her surprise she found it hard to stumble with Travers' precision and assertiveness.

"What do you pin me as?" She asked, head whirling. She put it all down to that single spin.

"The latter." He said immediately, tongue flicking out to dampen his drying lips. "I bet you're so fucking _dirty_ in bed." He growled. Andria wondered if he were even half man by this point and not just a being of pure lust and desire. "The things I would do to you, Malfoy, if you'd allow it." She wanted badly to reply with wit but her mouth seemed to become one with cotton. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards into a smirk. He leaned close so his mouth was tickling her ear. "You'd be soaking before I'd even get between those long, beautiful fucking legs." Despite being unsure of what, exactly, this meant, her stomach knotted unwillingly. He leaned back, taking another swipe at his lips with his tongue. "You have no idea what you do to the male population, Malfoy." He husked, pulling at her waist. "I truly do not think there is a single male in the _world_ who is immune from your looks and purity."

"I can think of a few." She spoke, hoping she didn't sound as shaky as she was feeling. "I think it would be an abomination for my brother and father to feel anything other than family love towards me. And, of course, do not get me started on small boys. They have not yet reached the stage of –"

"Funny." He cut through, stopping Andria's rambling – more thank likely getting _exactly_ what he wanted. "The things you do to me, Malfoy." He muttered, staring into her eyes. "I could show you, if you wanted."

"No, thank you." She dismissed at once, looking at the crowds of dancers around her, hoping Travers wouldn't catch on to her heated face. "But if you wanted to deal with your show and tell piece, there is showers located upstairs." She turned her head back to him, fixing her face into a cool, impassive smirk. "I hear cold showers work _wonders_." Travers' face crumpled.

"Is everything alright?" Her mother's crisp, cold voice sent shivers down Andria's spine. Travers ceased to dance and he gawped at Narcissa's seemingly undying beauty – or perhaps he was embarrassed.

"Everything is perfect, mother." Andria said coolly, taking both her arms back and placing them by her sides. "I was just directing Austin, here, to the cold showers."

Narcissa hummed and nodded her head. "How very thoughtful of you, my dearest daughter." Her eyes were hard and unforgiving, set upon the boy who had previously been dancing and throwing himself upon Andria. She decided then and there that he was repulsive and very much like the boys she knew at school who's only aim in life was to have sex with as many girls without so much as a connection and did whatever it was to get to their desired outcome. Narcissa's eyes narrowed. "If you would not mind, I would like to speak with my daughter. Alone."

Travers, much to Andria's delight, babbled nervously and nodded, hobbling away and disappearing into the mass crowd. "I do hope you warded him off, Andria." Narcissa said softly, almost knowingly. She didn't like it one bit. Noticing her distaste, Narcissa had the audacity to trill out a laugh. "I had my fair share of annoying boys to dance with when I was your age." She said simply. "While popular culture may change, people's attitudes do not."

"I let it be known to him that he was an utter pig. Many times."

Narcissa beamed. "Good, good." She nodded primly and scanned through the crowd. "Have you danced with each man off your list?"

"Pretty much, yes."

"Any that took your interest?"

"Dancing with them all was like watching paint dry." Except Travers, possibly, he managed to make her stomach swirl and head spin. But she wasn't about to admit that, especially not to her mother.

"Remember to take a dance with your father and brother, won't you?" Narcissa inquired, eyes going circular and pleading. It was a wonder how Lucius could ever deny her anything. "It would be such a pity if your night came to an end without dancing with them."

"Of course, mother." She said with a tight nod. "You don't happen to know if the Campbell's attended, do you? I have only one name left to dance with, and I do not know his appearance."

"You need not worry about that Campbell boy from your list." Narcissa seemed oddly agitated by the mentioning of that family. "He has been removed. Your father sought to it." Before Andria could muster up a plausible protest, Narcissa spoke up again. "Speaking of your father, he is over there speaking with Mr Parkinson. We both know how much he abhors the man's personality of drying cloth, be a dear and relieve him of the annoyance by asking him to dance?"

"Yes, mother."

Narcissa grinned, taking Andria's face delicately in her hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You're an absolute picture, my love." She swept away quickly. Andria scowled at the ground momentarily. Lifting her face and plastering on an almost sickly sweet smile, she walked to where her father and Pansy's father stood conversing. Lucius spotted her almost at once and didn't show his relief until he spoke. "Andria." He said calmly. Pansy's father stopped speaking to turn and she knew immediately why her father must have been so bored. Mr Parkinson had an overly large, thick black moustache perched on his upper lip (Andria wondered briefly if all the hair from his head had migrated and died just above his lips), his nose was of an odd shape (something he had quite obviously passed onto his daughter) and his eyes were abnormally small, beady and such a dark shade of brown they were near black.

"Forgive me for intruding your otherwise stimulating conversation, Father, Mr Parkinson," She said politely, inclining her head respectfully "but the clock is nearly on midnight and I have not shared a dance with you." She kept her eyes firmly locked on her father's so that Mr Parkinson, who was acting piggish by eyeing the tight corset and fabric that pronounced her femininity, wouldn't think her offer had been extended to him.

"Of course." Lucius said at once. He had the decency to look remorseful when addressing Mr Parkinson. "Forgive me, Paulus, but duty calls." Andria's brow twitched at being called ' _duty_ '.

"All is forgiven, Lucius, all is forgiven." Mr Parkinson's beady little eyes roamed up Andria's body, settling on her eyes. "You look simply exquisite, dear."

A single brow shot up Lucius' forehead and Andria simply smiled. "Thank you. Father?" She held out her hand, palm facing the ground, waiting his touch. When it came, she nodded at the stout, increasingly creepy man in a bid of farewell. "Mr Parkinson."

"That man is unbearable." Lucius gritted out as they were engulfed by the dancing guests. "Not a shred of personality to him."

"Pansy, in my opinion, is very much the same." She said, trying to appear that her comment was made in passing. It was not. Lucius knew it, too. "It would be a pity to pair Draco up with someone like that, don't you think, father?"

"Pity indeed." Lucius did not sound committed. "Have you put much thought into your own suitor as you have a match for Draco?"

"At least two times more." She spun under her father's arm, following the motions of every other pair on the marbled flooring. "I feel as though my experience with dancing with them held as much similarity to your conversations with Mr Parkinson." Lucius' face contorted into something akin to a scowl, only it was much more acceptable for a respectable grown man and far less childish. "You know, father, I heard first hand from Draco's Parkinson girl that she calls her boring father _daddy_." Lucius' brows furrowed slightly with displeasure. "You pulled me out of that habit when I reached six. Pansy must be at _least_ thirteen. Fourteen in the upcoming months, you would not wish to attach the heir of the Malfoy name to such a childish and tactless wench, would you?"

"Language."

"Tactless _child_." She amended with the quirk of her lips.

"Enough mindless chatter about Miss Parkinson's… less than suitable habits." Andria smirked. "Mr Travers, however." Her smirk dropped. "If he ever so much as _breathes_ in your direction again, I will snap his neck and strip his family of everything they hold dear."

Andria arched a brow. "He's on my list." She said bluntly, stating the obvious.

"Perhaps for not much longer." Lucius appeared to be seething. "I don't know _who_ he thinks he is. He should count himself lucky that your mother got to him before I did, what, with his _molestation_ of my daughter in _my_ home." His jaw set and his eyes skimmed around the room, as if scouting Travers out. Andria couldn't help but feel slightly touched by his level of protectiveness. She grinned, taking her father by surprise. He looked at her oddly before she ripped his hand roughly from his in bid to wrap it securely around his shoulders, pressing her face into the material of his robes. He didn't return the embrace, not immediately, at least, not until after she spoke, but she didn't mind. "I don't say this much," she mumbled, "especially not recently, but I do love you, father." She didn't find herself bothered when he didn't utter it back, knowing that, when his arms did eventually curl around her, the small squeeze was his way, in as little words as possible, of saying that he loved her too.


	45. Chapter 45

Andria was surprised Draco didn't wet himself with laughter when she excused herself to the Prefect's carriage. He laughed so hard he had to crouch on the ground and grip onto his trunk for support. Andria told him to fuck the giant squid before she pinned the little green pin onto her robes and walking to her destination with forced purpose. She refused to allow herself to make eye contact with anyone because Andria Malfoy was in a terrible mood. She was in such a foul mood that she was so sure that if any small child even _dared_ to look at her with so much as a crinkled nose, she'd whip out her wand and hex them into oblivion.

She wasn't proud. Definitely not, she had the rest of her life to be miserable, not now. _Definitely not now._ She had another good few years before she could be miserable – not when she's a newly turned sixteen year old girl. As if being miserable at such a young age was bad, she didn't even know _why_ she felt so foul. Surely it couldn't be her slip-up? It couldn't be.

Andria shook her head to herself and stepped onto the next carriage with a withered sigh.

The sheer number of times she had referred to someone by the term 'mudblood' and it had never shaken her. Not once. But then came George Weasley's _stupid_ face and how he looked at her like he would a tricky set of potion instructions and that, _that_ of all things was enough to set her into the human embodiment of misery and rage? How was that even fair?

Andria snarled at a second year as they just narrowly missed bumping into her.

Perhaps it wasn't that, she thought, tragically optimistic. Perhaps she was angry at getting the Prefect role. A small voice at the back of her head sneered _and perhaps you're just angry because it didn't rain today_. Andria didn't appreciate the level of sarcasm and kindly told that nasally voice that it can join her brother in shagging the giant squid.

Andria groaned loudly when she opened the compartment door right on Austin Travers' smug, _irritating_ face. "Is Snape alright?" She asked at a near shriek. Travers only smirked and sent her a wink and said something that was lost on her ears, but Andria guessed that it would be something incredibly piggish and she didn't really want to hear it anyway. "Where's everyone else?" She asked stonily, looking out the window as the scenery rushed past.

"Meeting doesn't start for another twenty minutes, hot stuff."

"Oh, Merlin." Andria made it her point to sit on the opposite bench, huddled against the corner. She rested her head softly against the compartment window and watched as few students roamed the small corridor. The vibrations of the train allowed her to ignore Travers lavishly, everything he said falling on deaf ears and his huffs and grunts of sheer annoyance turning up her lips with a satisfactory smile. He attempted to gain her attention by sitting next to her and leaning in close, his breath ticking her cheek but a swift jab to the stomach with her elbow quickly sorted that out.

Five minutes before Travers said the meeting was to start, a befuddled looking seventh year boy walked in followed closely by an overwhelmed, stressing female. "I don't know, Timmy, I'm just as new to – oh, hello." The girl's eyes narrowed at the two Slytherin's and Andria huffed. Their close proximity was bound to spark crass ideas in the Head Student's minds. Luckily for Andria, she was with Austin Travers and he had the largest mouth. "A _Ravenclaw_ Head Girl?" He sneered, nose scrunching up. "A _Gryffindor_ Head Boy? Merlin." He tipped his head back and painfully slammed it against the wall of the carriage. "Here's to our seventh year, eh, Malf's?" Travers lifted his hand and mimed giving a toast.

" _What_ the absolute _Hell_ did you just call me?" Andria demanded shrilly. Travers turned to her lazily with a small frown.

"Didn't like that one?" He asked.

"Just call me Malfoy, for Heaven's sake, Travers!"

Travers huffed and shook his head. "You're no fun. Especially since you made it _explicitly_ clear that you have no interest in my nether regions in front of your mother. I thought we could at _least_ be mates, but I'm not friends with fun-suckers."

"Why are you talking like you just gave me bad news?" Andria asked with a glower. "That is the single best thing I have heard in _years_. What a birthday this has turned out to be. Sweet sixteen _indeed_."

Travers let out a sardonic laugh. "Has anyone told you that you're quite the bitch?"

"People tend to leave that out in conversation because my father can squash yours like a grape under his foot."

"I take it you two are the new Slytherin Prefects, then?" The Head Boy – Timmy, Andria recalled the girl addressing him as – asked light-heartedly, with an optimistic smile. He was met with two frowns and received a slap over the back of his head by the Head Girl.

/ / /

Nobody dared to approach Andria that night in the Common Room. Not Elizabeth, not Meredith, not Travers (he had learned his lesson, _thankfully_ ) not Lewis and especially not George Weasley. Andria attempted to shrug off the last one – why in Merlin's name would she care if Weasley was ignoring her? She definitely wasn't a little hurt when they met eyes in the Great Hall during the feast and his frown turned so deep that it was almost as if the corners of his mouth were about to fall off his face. And she didn't early break the empty plate in front of her when he was the one to run away first and continue on with his life where he didn't have to interact with bigoted sixteen year old girls.

Andria humphed out loud and shook her head with a ferocious frown. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them again, tightening her arms around her waist, glowering at all the new and excited first years who chattered optimistically amongst themselves, throwing in a sneer at those in second year and above. How dare they all? She thought thunderously. How dare they all be happy while I am suffering for something unbeknown?

 _Hah, but you know perfectly well why you're in such a foul mood_ , a voice lilted at the back of her mind. Andria shook her head again and stood up quickly, so quickly that the people within a five foot radius of her all stopped talking just to look. " _What_?" She snapped. "Am I not allowed to go to bed without announcing it? Fucking Merlin, get your head out your prissy little arses." She brushed her hands down the front of her dress angrily, her face returning to its as-of-late usual smoulder.

Making her way to the dormitory stairs, a hand reached out and caught her by the elbow, spinning her around. "What the _fuck_ do you –"

"Fucking simmer, woman." Andria fumed silently and ripped her arm out of her brothers grip. "What the _hell_ has gotten you in such a dreadful mood?" He demanded, reaching back out and grabbing at her hand tightly.

"I am in a perfectly _fine_ mood, thank you very much."

"You're lying." Draco insisted heatedly. "Did you know that mother thinks your – your _behaviour_ is to do with her? She's been worrying herself sick over some argument that the two of you –"

"So that's what she's calling it, is it?" Andria snarled, digging her fingers harshly into his pale skin so he had no other option but to gasp out with pain and remove his own hand. "And for the record, Draco, mother has a perfectly valid reason to blame herself – only because she is right!" _Liar, liar, pants on fire!_

"Of course!" Draco guffawed mirthlessly. "Enough with the lies, sister, it's not like you."

"Oh, it is perfectly like me, brother." Andria took a step back so she was out of arms reach. "It is perfectly like every single being of our community. We lie, cheat and do anything necessary to get to the top and become all the more brutal just to stay there. You don't even have to do it well, all you need is the money, the status and the charm and _Merlin_ knows I am well-endowed in those three areas."

"As you are displaying now, with your mind-blowing charm, sister mine. Remind yourself of your place and do so _quickly_. Do you really think any of your suitors will allow you to behave in such a manner?" All of the air from Andria's lungs escaped at once at the sheer look of disgust her younger brother was giving her. She swallowed thickly, saliva coating her drying throat as the look she was receiving was eerily similar to that of Lucius Malfoy. _Oh no_ , Andria moaned internally, her head spinning ever so slightly. _What have I done_? "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Draco snapped, brows creasing together. Andria shook her head wildly and back off in long strides, turning quickly and descending up the girls' dormitory stairs frantically. Zipping through her dorm and ignoring the weird looks she received from both dormmates, she made a b-line for the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, leaning back against it and panting.

"Bloody hell." She murmured, wincing as someone knocked cautiously at the door. "Go away!"

"Andi, are you sure –"

"I'm fine, Meredith, just leave me alone." She drew in a breath before adding a shaky " _please_." Andria listened to the uncertain hovering and eventual footsteps that walked away. She slid down the wood door, not caring that numerous threads of her dress got caught on the slabs of wood, pressing the heel of her hands into her eyes and let out a heavy huff of frustration. She – _she_ had done this. Too absorbed in her own self-misery to realise that she was sending off her own brother into the arms of Lucius Malfoy. Sending a boy with questionable morals into the arm of someone with, quite frankly, _dead awful_ morals. "Fucking shit."

/ / /

I have a tumblr where you can ask be things! Hoorah! .com should do the trick, or just search for greengrarse-estate on the tumblr search bar. Thank you for reading, lovelies!


	46. Chapter 46

I am currently in the process of rewriting this entire story.

A stupid idea? Quite possibly, do I care? My constant feeling of anxiety is making me care but I think it is what's best for my plot line.

There are some things that I really feel I could have handled better and I would like to smooth out, with hopefully better writing and a clearer destination of where I would like Andria to go. When I first started writing this version I was fuelled by my idea of the forbidden romance I had all intentions of writing and while that still is a major part, I now know exactly how I would like to go about it from beginning to middle and then to the end.

The outlined plot seen here will still be followed with a few rather prominent changes and I really hope to have managed to capture the characters essence better in my second rewrite as some of the OOCness I adapted within this story has really bugged me over the course of the past few updates of this fic. I am just about finished with the first chapter, possibly to be put up tonight (the eighth of June 2017) or tomorrow. If I do not have it up when I have said, please, please, _please_ pressure me. Bully me with kindness, if you must, because I really feel bad for abandoning this story like I have.

The new, updates story will more than likely go by a different name and be an entirely different story all together rather than reposting the chapters on this one. You can either follow my profile so you can get notified when I post it or, if enough of you are interested (shown by leaving a review or PMing me, I don't really know) I'll post to this story when I have posted the newer version.

However, until my next update, many regards and I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season back at the end of 2016 and if you have celebrated a birthday within the last time I posted and now, many congratulations! You do not look a day over the age you have turned. You look wonderful, you could definitely get onto a bus for a child's ticket without so much of a question. Magnificent, darling, really.


	47. Chapter 47

The newly refurbished story is up, titled Sugar and Spice! It currently has one chapter and I'm in the midst of conjuring up the second, so expect that up within the next few days.

Thank you all so much for keeping up with Andria's story so far and I hope to see a large majority of you over there where I feel that my writing style and character's future can finally match up - or I hope it will, anyway.


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